Suffragette
by Willam89
Summary: Historical AU - London, 1913. After bombing the Prime Minister's house, suffragette Lexa is being chased by the police. Lady Abby Griffin offers her a way out: she needs a maid to accompany her daughter to their estate in Lancashire for one year. Even though Lexa hates everything about the aristocratic life, she has no choice but to pretend she's Lady Clarke Griffin's new maid.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no profit has been made from this story. The 100 belongs to Bonanza Productions in association with Alloy Entertainment, Warner Bros. Television and CBS Television Studios.

* * *

London, 1913

The light thin rain that washed the now empty streets of Walton-on-the-Hill, Surrey, made the night even chillier than it already was. The snow had been gone for a little less than three weeks now, but the weather hadn't improved very much on the first days of February. Nonetheless, the cold was not enough to cool down the temper of a certain group that silently made its way up the hill surrounding the Walton Heath Golf Club.

It was very peculiar to see such a committee making their way around the sumptuous houses at such an hour, long past most inhabitants' bed time. The most curious thing about it, however, was that it was formed exclusively by women. There were older ladies still clad on their dining outfits, middle-class mothers with disheveled hair and some younger girls on their late teens wearing simple maiden dresses or even men's clothing.

Lexa Woods was representing the later. Her long dark brown curls were tightly pent up under a black hat, while the rest of her slim body was shivering underneath a complete three-piece suit and a green tie that matched her eyes. She couldn't be much older than nineteen, even though the fierce look on her face masked her girlish features while she marched among her companions. They had traveled down there tonight to complete a mission that, if successful, would be a turning point on their fight. And God only knew how in need of a victory they were these days.

"We're here", announced softly a middle-aged woman that was leading the group. All the others stopped behind her and seemed to hesitate while looking at the luxurious house, still incomplete, but on the final stages of construction. There wasn't a single light coming from inside, not even the faint glow of a candle, indicating that nobody lived there - and, after tonight, nobody ever would.

"Joan, Ada, take some of the girls and check if it's really empty", instructed the leader. She looked as calm as a mother who asks her children to go buy some groceries for dinner. "We will only continue if there's no human harm involved. Me and the others will get the explosives ready."

The two women did as they were told, lifting their long dresses as they marched through the lawn to get to the house, followed by five younger girls who could be their daughters (and maybe they were, for several families had completely engaged on the movement so far). Lexa stood behind and silently disapproved their clothing choice for this evening: long embroidered dresses seemed hardly like a good choice for a late-night clandestine bombing. Their delicate heels were sinking in the muddy lawn, making it increasingly hard to complete the journey towards the house, but they eventually made it and disappeared around the building, probably looking for a way in. They really deserved some credit for bravery, because when they return home early in the morning there would be a lot of washing and cleaning to do before getting their husband's breakfast ready.

Lexa prefered men's clothes because they were simpler and much more comfortable, though she couldn't wear them all the time. It was still taboo for women to wear pants in England, so a suit was clearly out of the question. But in times like these, she didn't need to think twice - the clothing was good for sneaking in and out fast and perfect to diverge attention, especially in a mission like this.

"Can you help me out here, Lexa?"

The brunette turned her gaze away from the house and found a small woman a few feet away trying to lift by herself some kind of wooden box. It wasn't very big, but by the look of distress on the woman's face it was clearly kind of heavy.

"Hold that edge", instructed Lexa while lifting the opposite corners of the box. "One, two, three!"

They lifted the home-made bomb with ease now that Lexa was helping. She probably was the strongest of them all, even though her skinny complexion didn't give that way, but she was also trained in some martial arts and did a fair amount of pushups every morning. The fact that she didn't have a husband or a brother to complain about her lifestyle helped a lot on this matter.

"Let's be careful", started the small woman again, her voice a little weaker this time. "I hear this is extremely fragile."

"It is". She looked at Lexa with wide eyes and the brunette tightened her grip, afraid that her partner might drop the box on the ground. "We just need to take it inside and it will be over. Don't worry, Emily."

But Emily was terrified, sweat dripping from her temples as if it was a sunny summer morning. Lexa understood her worry: these bombs were very amateurish, made by women who had never been involved with war, terrorism or other protest activities, most times without advice or help from more experienced people. Some of the leaders of WSPU (Women's Social and Political Union) managed to smuggle printed instructions from outside the country and that's all they've got. Lexa had read everything she could on the subject, but there was no guarantee that the bombs would go off - or, even worse, go off while the group was still around.

After a few minutes of slowly making their way to the backdoor, they were greeted by one of the younger girls that went in first to inspect the place. She had the same look of terror that Emily did, but her eyes also glowed with sheer determination of getting this thing done.

"There's no one inside", she announced in a whisper, "Pankhurst said we should put them in the kitchen cupboards."

And so they did. Maneuvering carefully around the kitchen table and other furniture, they finally got the box inside a cupboard and were followed by another duo of women bringing a second explosive device. After checking if everything was working (as far as they knew), their leader approached the first wick and lit it up with a match, doing the same thing to the second one right after.

"Everyone out, come on. Quickly!"

One by one, the women made their way through the house's back door and ran through the lawn until they were at a safe distance in the poorly illuminated street. Lexa was about to exit the kitchen when she noticed the place was a little darker. Looking back at the open cupboards, she noticed that one of the wicks had gone out before reaching the center of the bomb.

Without thinking twice, the brunette raced back inside and kneeled in front of the wick, desperately trying to make it burn again with her matches. The wire was cold and humid, probably because it had been exposed to the drizzle on the way to the house, so after three attempts it still wouldn't light up.

"Lexa, what are you doing?" Raven entered the kitchen looking absolutely shocked as she saw her colleague and long-time friend standing face to face with the bomb. "Let's go, it's going to explode!"

"I'm almost there", answered Lexa between her teeth. The wick was getting drier because of the closeness to the fire; the flame was almost catching properly.

"Are you insane? You are going to get yourself killed. Let's go!"

Raven tried to push Lexa to the door, but the girl wasn't willing to go just yet. She managed to get free from Raven's grip without even stopping her constant lighting of matches in front of the wooden box.

Suddenly, the dim light went out on the other cupboard, and Raven's eyes stared at it wildly.

The first bomb was off.

Everything happened really fast after that. The fire starting on the wick. Lexa getting up and pushing Raven out of the kitchen. The loud noise of explosion just a few feet away when Lexa threw herself on top of her friend to protect her from the debris.

And that's the last thing she remembered.

* * *

"Lexa? Can you hear me? Lexa?"

She opened her eyes slowly, immediately regretting it because of the headache this action caused. There was someone talking by her side, but she couldn't listen very well - her ears still felt muffled and the constant beeping sound inside her head wasn't helping either. The only thing she recognized was Raven's face, lips moving fast as she spoke, but Lexa wasn't able to hear much of it. The girl looked happy and relieved, though.

The events from recent past came by slowly and Lexa looked around so she could identify where she was. The last thing she remembered was throwing herself on the moisty lawn at David Lloyd George's backyard as part of his brand new house flew into the sky. Maybe she was captured by the police after all and was being treated at the Women's Prison hospital, and that's why everything was so white and clean.

"Can you hear me?" Her friend tried once again, this time louder and closer, and Lexa finally understood the words with some difficulty. But that was a good sign - maybe her hearing wasn't permanently affected.

Lexa nodded and her head spun. Clearly she was not completely cured from whatever injures she might have, but it was worth it to see Raven alive and well. They had been friends since they were children, playing on the streets and later fleeing their houses after dark, first to meet other youngsters to drink, dance and smoke; later to join the Suffragette movement. Raven's family had emigrated from Spain a few years before she was born, just like Lexa's father, who came from Russia. They were poor and had very few expectations about their future, but nevertheless they chose to fight for women's rights while they still had strength to do so.

Suddenly, a third woman entered the room. "How is she doing?"

She was twice their age and looked very distinct, like an educated woman of a higher class. However, she was wearing simple clothes and a doctor's apron, one that only men used in their clinics or hospitals. Females involved in medicine were usually just nurses or doctors' wives.

"She's alive", commented Raven with a hint of a smile as she looked to the older woman, who returned the smile and approached them.

"Good. I think you can let your friend in, now."

Raven nodded and got up, crossing the room and disappearing through the door. Lexa noticed for the first time that the hallway looked very domestic, contrasting with the room where she was, which was almost identical to a hospital accommodation.

"I'm Abby Griffin, Lexa", explained softly the older woman while sitting on a chair by the girl's bed. "I'm a long-time friend of Raven's family."

Lexa narrowed her eyes a little as she stared at the woman. She had never heard of any Griffins before, and it seemed very strange that the Reyes would have any affiliation with such a rich family all of the sudden. "Are you a doctor?"

"Unfortunately, no. They wouldn't let me study or practice officially because I'm a woman, as I'm sure you're aware of. But my father was a doctor and he taught me everything he knew."

The younger woman seemed a little less suspicious, but nonetheless decided to not share any more information. She had been involved with WSPU for almost two years and was a marked target to London's Police, especially after tonight's events. She was very well aware to not trust anyone, not even a female doctor.

"Alexandra", announced a sharp voice from the door, interrupting whatever Abby was about to say. The new visitor was was tall, dark-blonde and had feral features, a woman that no one in their right mind would mess with. She carried a gruesome expression on her face and didn't even seem to acknowledge Abby's presence as she crossed the room to get closer to her little sister.

"Anya", greeted the brunette.

"You have outdone yourself this time", she continued sharply, "father says he can't even look at you right now. He may never do it again."

"How shocking", mocked Lexa as she stared at her older sister. "He barely ever did."

"He still puts food inside your stomach, doesn't he? He also puts a roof over your anarchist, useless head."

"That's enough", interrupted Abby. "Lexa is still recovering from a trauma. I don't think this confrontation is good for her right now."

"What good is being alive now, huh?" Anya crossed her arms and glared at the smaller woman on the bed. "Father won't have you back after this."

"I don't want to come back."

Lexa pretended to be strong, to not care about Anya's words, but deep down she was terrified. Because one thing was being a revolutionary among a group of women fighting for freedom and equal rights - at the end of the day, they all would return to their fathers and husbands and pretend they were okay with this silly little life of the early 20th Century. But something completely different was for a young woman to be abandoned by her father without a husband or money. Even though she wasn't high born, that would certainly kill her already thin chances of getting married, and she would live in the streets without anyone's protection.

"The option is going to jail", announced Raven from the other side of the room, having rejoined the group after bringing Anya inside. She was holding a folded newspaper. "The WSPU is down, Lexa. Almost all of us were arrested this morning. Mrs. Pankhurst confessed her guilt and so did most of the others when they were captured."

"We always find a way back", said Lexa hopefully. "Prison is just for a little while. Soon, our comrades will be out and we'll all be back to the fight."

"Not you", cut Anya coldly. "Because you'll be dead by then, living on the streets by yourself. Maybe prison is a better idea."

"No one is going to prison." Abby decided to interfere once again, since the teenage hormones were running strong on that room. She had a daughter about the same age as those girls and she knew very well how ugly things could get if not controlled in time. "That's why Raven brought you here and not to the hospital, Lexa. No one saw you on the crime scene, but they know you were involved with WSPU, so the police is looking for you." She paused and looked at Raven with concern. "For both of you."

"They were in our house this morning", said Anya. "That's why father was so upset."

Lexa glanced at the three women, waiting for someone to say something. "So what are you suggesting? That I hide here while my friends are in prison? I want to be with them!"

"See? I told you", said Anya looking at Raven. "She will always chose the riot."

"Yes, I will."

"Well, you haven't heard the other option yet", stated Raven calmly. "Lady Griffin is a kind woman, Lexa. She wasn't only willing to heal you - she also has a plan to help both of us."

The three young girls stared at Abby with different facial expressions: Anya looked bored and still angry; Raven was nothing but hopeful and Lexa just narrowed her eyes in suspicion, as she usually did. This looked a little like a conspiracy and she would probably not like the outcome of the conversation that was about to take place. Sensing her friend's suspicious thoughts, Raven started speaking once again.

"Lady Griffin is willing to be my alibi for last night's happenings. Since our families have been connected for several years, even though we don't see each other very often, she will tell the Police that I have been staying at her house since Monday, serving as a new maid."

"Do you think that will be enough for them?", inquired Lexa. "This might free you from tonight's charges, but the evidence of your participation in WSPU still exists."

"Raven won't have to worry about the Police coming after her once she is under my protection", announced Abby in a reassuring tone. "I have some influential friends and I can arrange that, specially because she hadn't been a part of the more violent acts."

"I see", said Lexa with a sarcastic smirk, "but since I'm a seasoned terrorist, I sense those friends of yours won't help me as easily."

"Hey", started Anya, pointing a warning finger to her younger sister. "The lady is trying to help. Watch your tone."

Lexa still didn't like the fact that a strange rich woman was planning her future without her consent, but she decided to at least hear her idea.

"You see, Lexa", started the amateur doctor, "it won't be easy to convince the police that one of you wasn't there, let alone both of you. So the plan is to give an alibi to Raven, whose connection to this house can be proven, and keep her around until she is safe again. Meanwhile, I can protect you as well, but not here. You will have to leave London immediately."

"Excuse me?" The brunette glared at the lady, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"I have a daughter that is about your age. She's not as rebellious as you are, but she's been through a lot lately and she needs to take some time off the tumultuous life of the city. Just like you do."

Lexa snorted and looked away, but Abby's hand on hers made her return her gaze to the older woman. She had lost her mother at a very early age and barely remembered her face; it was really new for the girl to have a motherly figure caring for her like this.

"The truth is that my daughter is sick", continued Abby. "The doctors said that she needs to stay a few months in the countryside to get better and I agree with them, because nothing we tried here made her feel any better. We have a cottage in Lancashire where I'm sending her tomorrow and I would like you to accompany her."

"You want me to be the maid of some sick girl", said Lexa with disdain.

"If you want to call it this way, yes", confirmed Abby. "And you would also be paid for your services."

"Don't you have maids here?" She didn't get to see the house, but by the looks of the furniture and the size of the room, the Griffins were probably very rich. Rich enough to afford as many servants as they needed. "Can't you spare one to accompany your daughter?"

"Of course. But I don't want just a servant, a person who will tend her needs and do whatever she wants. I hear you're quite schooled and have read many of the modern thinkers, not to mention your cutting-edge political views. Maybe you can entertain her and also challenge her a little bit."

"Listen, lady", started Lexa as she sat up on the bed, ignoring the dizziness that followed. "Even if I accept this nonsense, how do you know your daughter will even be willing to listen to anything I say? What can I possibly have in common with some rich girl that spends her days reading tacky romances and her nights waltzing with suitors?"

Abby couldn't help showing a hint of a smile. "You would be surprised."

* * *

Before she could completely digest what was going on, Lexa was sitting on a fancy carriage waiting for her travel companion to show up.

The previous day had been filled with discussions about her future. After Lady Griffin made her proposal and left her to think about it, Anya and Raven filled Lexa's head with their opinions. The fact that she had just almost been exploded into a million pieces wasn't helping her decision, so she asked everyone to leave so she could rest and make up her mind later.

She managed to sleep for a few hours until a maid brought her some food and soon she was feeling a little better. The humming on her ear had not faded completely, but it was lower, and her limbs didn't hurt so much anymore.

Checking her body for injuries, she noticed that she didn't have any open wounds or broken bones, just a few scratches on the knee where her pants had tore with the fall. That was the upside of wearing the resistant three piece suit. The downside was that said suit was now looking like a nightmare, all ripped and dirty.

Abby returned for the afternoon tea to check on her patient and decided she was good enough to leave the next morning, regardless to where she was going after all. Lexa just nodded and thanked the doctor for her kindness, but still didn't give her an answer.

The truth was that now Lady Griffin's offer didn't look so grim. Of course she didn't want to leave London and her companions from WSPU behind, especially now that their fight was finally hitting the headlines and gaining the support from public opinion, but Raven had reasonably told her that a few months away from the city could give her some new perspectives and plans of action. She was being chased by the London Police and from inside the prison there wasn't much she could do. Also, she wasn't like the high-borns in the movement, so once she was behind bars it wasn't likely for her to get out soon, not without a lawyer or any influential friends. Maybe if she spent some time away they would forget about her and she could resume the political activities when she returned.

Even if she wasn't captured by the police or was able to leave jail after a few weeks, her father wouldn't take her back, as Anya had announced. He was still very angry, as he often was. All he ever wanted for his daughters was for them to marry some hard-working fellows who would give them a decent living, but none of them turned out as he expected. Anya was a secretary at a small company and, even though she wasn't involved in the fight as Lexa, she was very in favor of women's rights, not willing to stay at home all her life taking care of a man. So she wasn't married yet, even though she had a few suitors, driving Mr. Woods insane. To him, a twenty-two year-old woman who was still single was most likely to remain a maiden for the rest of her life.

Lexa, on the other hand, was the black sheep of the family ever since she was a kid. She only wanted to play with boys, even fighting them for money and winning bets in the dark alleys around the humble neighborhood where she grew up. Her only female friend was Raven, who also didn't enjoy the company of the girls who only wanted to play with dolls and dream about their weddings and prince charmings. They would sneak in the restricted sections at the Public Library and read about everything from a very young age. During their early teens they hung out with boys who finally understood they weren't going to get romantic with them, and together they went around town and saw the world for what it really was. That's when Lexa got her first men's clothes, from some old rags the older boys had in their houses, so she and Raven could sneak around town pretending they were lads from time to time.

Raven had her occasional fling with those boys, but it was nothing serious - she was just having fun. Lexa never wanted to kiss or be intimate with any of them. Some were really nice friends, like Lincoln and Nyko, but she couldn't bring herself to see them as anything past that. For a few years she thought she was just cut out to be a spinster with no interest in love whatsoever, just like many aunts people had, until she met Costia.

They were both seventeen and had never been in love before. The whole thing was fast and left no chance for either girl to think twice before giving themselves completely into the feeling. It was all very secretive, as homosexual relationships would go back then, and they were almost caught several times, which kind of gave them a thrill. Raven was the only one who knew about it.

But even though Costia was just as tough and strong as her girlfriend, she didn't even made it to her eighteenth birthday.

Lexa thought her life was over the day she saw Costia's grave, never able to hold her hand one more time, never having the chance to say goodbye. No one in their families could know about the nature of their relationship and no one ever would.

It was only a few months after the loss that Raven convinced Lexa to come out of the house and back to the world. It was 1911 and the streets were roaring with new ideas and hope for a change. Women united to ask for the right to vote, and so did Raven and Lexa, getting involved up to their necks with the protests and joining WSPU in 1912. That's when Lexa's relationship with her father started to really go downhill. Gustus Woods already knew his daughter would probably never get married, but the idea of having an agitator (and probably a criminal) in the family was too much. Why couldn't he just have had a son?

And it was after replaying all those moments in her head that afternoon, while lying on Lady Griffin's guest bed, that Lexa decided it was time for a little change of air. She would go to Lancashire and endure the poor little rich girl for twelve months, as agreed with her mother on the night before, and enjoy the quiet time to study more about urban guerrilla tactics from the books she could smuggle around. Having her own income would make things easier and she would be able to save something for when she returned to London, so she wouldn't be so dependant on her father. Maybe he was even willing to take her back after a few months cooling down. It was a decent plan, after all.

At least it seemed like it until she laid eyes on her travel companion for the first time.

The girl looked quite fragile and pale as a sheet of paper, but nonetheless she was outstandly beautiful. Her blond hair was elegantly put up in a luxurious hairdo clearly composed by her maid; her fit body was trapped inside a proper maiden's dress that showed a little bit of cleavage, where Lexa could spot a few freckles and beauty marks. Her hands were covered by a set of white gloves and on her head she sported a hat that the brunette much doubted would fit inside the carriage. The most remarkable thing about her, though, were her eyes - blue as the clear sky (which they didn't see in London very often).

But they also looked so devastatingly sad that Lexa wondered what could've happened to this aristocratic girl to hurt her so badly this early in her life.

While a footman tied the girl's briefcases to the top of the carriage, she exchanged a cold goodbye with her mother.

Clarke Griffin entered the carriage without a word and sat opposite to Lexa, finally letting her eyes meet the girl's figure. She seemed to analyse her from head to toe, not really impressed with what she was seeing.

"You must be my new babysitter", she announced without emotion, already averting her eyes to the narrow window. "Or bodyguard. Whatever Mama wants to call this little arrangement."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Griffin." Somehow Lexa managed to find her manners in time to speak to the woman, although she wasn't sure she really deserved it. "I'm Lexa Woods."

"Lexa", repeated Clarke without a hint of emotion, though the brunette could swore she saw some curiosity on her companion's face. It lasted less than a second, and then she was back to her cold and careless tone. "Nice to meet you."

"Will this be your first time in the countryside, milady?" Lexa thought that, if she was to play this silly maid part, she might as well start the small talk she usually heard those girls making to their mistresses.

"You know, Lexa", started Clarke as she searched for something inside her handbag, "you don't have to do this. I don't need any new friends, I just need a new maid - and a quiet one."

That seemed enough interaction for Clarke, who opened a book from which she didn't tore her eyes away until they reached their destination.


	2. Chapter 2

The cottage was located a few miles south from the Burnley village and, in Lexa's eyes, it was hardly a cottage: it was a mansion. The house was two levels high and seemed to have room enough to fit five entire families, but this spring it would be the home of only Clarke Griffin, Lexa and a few local servants who took care of the house while the family was away. They looked really excited to finally have someone to tend, so they showered Clarke with greetings and questions about her travel and the buzzing londoner life. Clearly they knew very little about everything that had been going on in the city.

"I hear the Russians have been attacking", said a middle-aged woman looking rather weary. She was quite plump and had wild dirty-blond hair tied in an old-fashioned way. "They put bombs everywhere and say nasty things to the women. I'm so relieved you're here now; these big cities are no place for ladies."

"It's not as bad as you've heard, Gertha", assured Clarke with a kind smile, trying to diverge from the subject. Lexa was pretty sure that Clarke probably didn't knew a thing about what had been going on the streets either. "But it's nice to breath some fresh air."

"You must be so tired, milady… Come on in, Millicent will get your bath ready."

The older woman nodded to a girl who was wearing a black and white long dress, looking like if she was a nun, and she entered the house almost running. Lexa found that whole setting very peculiar - she had never been at such an aristocratic estate before. Of course she heard some people talking about this way of life, like former maids and butlers who lived near her house, but she took it like fairy tales. There was no way someone was comfortable enough to actually live like this, having other human beings undressing them, putting them to bed and practically feeding them every day.

When Raven told Lexa about Lady Griffin's family and title - which she inherited from her husband, who was a Viscount of something - the girl couldn't really believe that an aristocratic lady would get her hands dirty by healing working class people hiding inside her clandestine clinic. Raven said that Jacob Griffin had been a very down-to-Earth man despite his title, refusing to live at his estate in the countryside and moving to London so he could have an actual job, choosing to become an engineer (which was a very shocking thing for a lord to do) and marrying Abby, the daughter of a local doctor who didn't have a title. Lord Griffin owned his life to Raven's father, Enrico Reyes, who fought by his side at the Boer War in the early 1900's. They had been friendly ever since they returned to London and so did their wives, Abby and Silvia.

"Thank you, Gertha, you're still as kind as I remembered", said Clarke in a pompous tone, probably mimicking the way older aristocrats talked. Lexa didn't remember the girl talking like this in the carriage, and she wasn't that polite either.

"And who that might be?" Gertha seemed to finally acknowledge Lexa and was already disapproving of the girl's look. Well, she was wearing a simple dress that Abby had given her earlier that morning, but nothing could be done about her posture or her general energy. She really popped out on such prim surroundings.

"That's my personal maid, Lexa Woods", explained Clarke in a hurry after giving the girl a sideways glance, like if she was afraid Lexa might speak first. Not a chance.

"Is that so? Lady Griffin hadn't mentioned a maid on her letter."

"It was a last minute arrangement. You know how Mama is like."

Gertha shot Lexa one last suspicious glance and nodded. "Very well, then. Since you've both travelled such a long way we'll get Millicent to look out for you this evening, milady, but from tomorrow on we'll get Miss Woods on the job."

"That sounds perfect."

And without further ado, the group entered the sumptuous country house and got ready for dinner.

* * *

When the morning finally came, Lexa was already up. She couldn't sleep very well, not just because of the strange surroundings, but because every time she drifted into sleep her dreams were filled with images from her colleagues in prison, beaten up by the guards, or groups of women running away from the fire after the explosion. Maybe leaving hadn't been the greatest idea, but now it was settled and Lexa wasn't the kind of person who brooded over past decisions.

Her room was small compared to the rest of the house, but quite comfortable considering the place where she lived in London. Back home, she had been sharing a cramped room with her older sister since they were children, while her father had a room for himself after their mother had died. The living room was small and simple, sharing the same space with the kitchen. Here in the estate her room was neat, with a fine bed, a wardrobe, a small table and even an empty bookshelf.

After cleaning up and getting dressed in one of the hideous maid uniforms that had been given to her by Mrs. Langer (which was the way Gertha asked her to be addressed), Lexa left her room and joined the others at the servant's dining room for breakfast. She noticed that the kitchen was sort of crowded, with three women preparing a scandalous amount of food and two young fellows carrying trays upstairs.

"Are you enjoying the show, Miss Woods?" Gertha positioned herself in front of the woman, sweat dripping from her forehead as she left the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Langer, I was just-"

"What in Heaven's name are you doing standing there, girl? Her ladyship will be up in a minute, you must get her ready for breakfast!"

Lexa glanced again at the kitchen and noticed more trays being carried upstairs by the boys. Was all that just for Clarke, a girl who was as thin as a sheet of paper? Staring back at Mrs. Langer, she chose to not debate on the waste of food and made her way upstairs in a hurry, eager to get away from these crazy people. Not that the prospect of being stuck with a whiny grown-up baby was much better, but right now she just couldn't stand Gertha and her army.

When she arrived at Clarke's bedroom's door, she froze. That whole situation was obviously not thought through: she didn't know anything about rich people's protocol, about what were the duties of a maid, or about hairstyling, dresses, and whatever she might be required to do. Abby seemed so sure that this was a good plan that maybe it didn't occur to her that Lexa had absolutely no training for this sort of thing. The only thing she had ever worked on was WSPU, writing for their internal newspaper, rioting and making bombs. Not exactly abilities required to tend a lady.

Raven tried to help when she was at Lady Griffin's house yesterday, telling her friend some stuff she had seen the maids doing on the few times she went to Abby's house before. It was very little information and probably not quite accurate, but it was a starting point. Lexa didn't knew exactly why, but Abby seemed very keen on not letting her daughter find out that Lexa wasn't a real maid - something about the girl's nerves or other nonsense. She wasn't used to agitators and all this talk about protests, riots and specially bombs. So this whole plan was twice as hard for the young brunette, because not only she was going to impersonate a maid to the other maids, but to her mistress as well.

Before she could snap out of her thoughts and come up with a plan, the door opened and she was being dragged inside by a surprisingly strong hand.

"We'll really have to work on your punctuality", whispered Clarke after closing the door. "Did Gertha see you?"

"Yes. She was the one who told me to come up here."

Clarke sighed and turned her back to Lexa, moving towards the windows and opening the curtains. When the room was covered by sunlight, Lexa was able to see how beautiful it was, though still too garish for her taste. Everything looked expensive: from the delicate wallpaper to the linen on the gigantic bed.

"Look, I know my mother took you as her newfound charity project, but you'll really have to make an effort here", said the blonde in a firm tone. "She told me you don't have much experience with this. Is that so?"

When the brunette was done staring at the decoration and furniture, her gaze met Clarke's very displeased expression. The girl was sitting in front of the dressing table, like if she was waiting for something to happen. Lexa instinctively closed the distance between them and set herself behind Clarke, staring blankly at the girl's soft curls.

"You don't know how to do this, do you?" Clarke watched Lexa's reflection in the mirror. The confusion was stamped on her maid's face.

"Of course I do, milady", replied Lexa in a hurry, picking up a comb from the table. "I just never worked for such a high-born lady before, so I'm afraid I won't be able to follow the latest hairstyling trends."

The blonde stared at her in a mix of disbelief and amusement. Before there was room for any other complaints, Lexa started combing Clarke's hair, pretending she had known how to do this all her life. She couldn't help noticing how soft her curls were, and how shiny they looked under the morning light.

"Make it simple", announced Clarke while giving her maid some pins. "It's just for breakfast and staying at home. There will be no visitors today. When there are, though, we'll have a problem."

Lexa nodded and started working on an elegant bun as fast as she could, trying to show some kind of prowess. Clarke just started at her through the mirror with eyes as cold as ice, clearly not enjoying this poor excuse she had for a maid.

When they were done, the blonde got up and took of her camisole, leaving her body covered only by a thin negligee. Lexa averted her eyes and felt her cheeks burning at the unexpected sight, even though she should had seen this one coming. She had to dress - and undress - this girl every single day.

"The corset, Lexa", said Clarke sharply, clearly losing her patience.

The maid searched around the room for the corset, knowing the word only by the mocking commentaries her peers made of those uncomfortable undergarments, until she found the piece of clothing inside the wardrobe. However, when she picked the thing up, she didn't know what to make of it. She stared at the intricate cords that sewed the sides together until a rispid voice woke her up from her thoughts.

"Leave, now", announced Clarke harshly. "If you don't know what to do, you're useless here."

"But, milady, your mother-"

"Yes, I know my mother wants you here, and she will have it her way as she usually does", added the blonde with a humorless smirk, "but I won't have you around. Just wait a few minutes in the hallway and go down when I leave the room. I can get dressed by myself."

Not leaving any room for argument, Clarke nodded towards the hallway and Lexa gladly left. She was starting to think that her young mistress was not a morning person at all.

* * *

This strange arrangement went on for the first few days in Burnley. Lexa would get up before the other servants, get to Clarke's door and wait there until the girl was ready. Without exchanging a word, they would both go down to the dining room where Clarke had her disproportional breakfast - which she barely touched, by the way, but this fact made no impression on Mrs. Langer's banquets. She would read some of the news while eating, finish her tea and vanish inside the house until the next meal. After dinner, Lexa would walk up with her once again and leave the blonde by her bedroom's door, without ever entering the room again.

Lexa didn't mind it very much at first because Clarke seemed like a very annoying, spoiled little girl. She had done nothing but treat her with disdain since they first met, so it wasn't surprising that now she was completely ignoring the maid. The only thing that felt weird is that such a high-born woman would dismiss her maid and do everything by herself without complaining. Something was a little off about this whole situation, and probably went beyond Clarke's obvious dislike of her travel companion.

So Lexa spent her days mostly walking around the gardens and enjoying the beautiful landscape of the countryside. She would take one of her books and sit down under a tree to read until it was dinner time, and on her day off she would go to the village and explore it a little bit. There wasn't much to do at the small settlement, but she was happy to be among working class people once again, in an environment that resembled the city's lifestyle.

During one of these tours she met a mysterious woman called Indra, who was also a women's rights activist. She had been travelling around the world and had just returned from Bosnia, where the tension was rising between Bosnian, Serbs and Croats, leading to many riots and attacks. It was one of the symptoms showing that something in Europe wasn't right, and soon enough there would be a bigger conflict involving the richer countries as well. Indra was a political journalist who wrote for an English newspaper using a male pseudonym, and she was spending some time with her family in Burnley before resuming her activities in London. Her folks were very humble farmers that had a small house near the village and sold their crops in the market every day.

They became friends and shared a lot of ideas about the present and the future. Lexa was very pleased by this new found relationship, since she thought there was no smart life in Burnley whatsoever. Indra wouldn't stay long, but at least she was a source of information from the rest of the world. She also had a lot of books that she lent Lexa and introduced her to Marcus Kane, the local book shop owner who could get her any title she was interested in, even if he had to pull some strings to get the "more subversive" volumes to come by.

She missed the agitation, though. The cars honking, the hords of people walking by, the smoke pouring out of the cheminees, the crying babies and the neighbors yelling near her house. Here at the countryside, everything seemed so peaceful, so calm, that it was getting ridiculously dull.

Not only for Lexa, as it seemed, because after almost an entire month of silence, Clarke finally spoke to her after dinner. Instead of getting inside the bedroom by herself without a word, Clarke left the door hanging open in a gesture for Lexa to follow.

"So", started Clarke after sitting on the chair facing her dressing table. "You seem rather calm."

The brunette tried not to frown, but the assumption really got her confused. "Excuse me, milady?"

"I have been ignoring you for almost a month and you made nothing out of it."

Lexa waited for the blonde to continue talking and explain her line of thought, but there was nothing else. To avoid the uncomfortable silence, she approached Clarke from behind and started undoing her bun, carefully putting the pins on the table.

"I'm respecting your personal space, milady."

"That's clever", she answered sharply, "and also a first. The other ones couldn't let an entire day go by without starting a conversation."

Lexa stared at her in confusion. "What others, milady? Your former maids?"

"My former spies", she added nonchalantly. Facing Lexa's confusion, Clarke continued, "Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. My mother has been hiring maids to spy on me since I was eleven."

The brunette tried her best not to laugh, but couldn't help letting out a snort, which clearly wasn't very well received by her mistress. She just couldn't possibly understand why would Abby spy on her daughter - she was just some rich kid with nothing inside her head.

"Am I amusing you with this conversation, Lexa?"

"I'm sorry", started Lexa, still hinting a smile on the corner of her lips. "I was just wondering why would your mother spy on you, milady."

"Oh." Clarke glared at Lexa with narrowed eyes. "You think I never do anything interesting enough. I see."

The blonde looked somehow offended by Lexa's assumption, but the brunette just couldn't help herself. Lexa wasn't used to this life of pretending to be something she was not, or concealing her thoughts and feelings all the time to be polite. Not when people were talking nonsense all the time and making small matters seem so important.

But for some reason Clarke was a little more open this evening, so she just got up and turned her back to Lexa, pointing at the buttons on her dress. When the maid's uneasy fingers started undoing them, the lady let out a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry I've been unkind to you", said Clarke with sincerity, probably for the first time since they've met. "I'm not usually like this. I just feel so angry sometimes and I can't control it."

Lexa couldn't see the blue eyes from where she was standing, but she believed the girl. After sliding down the heavy dress from her mistress' body, Lexa went back to the wardrobe to get her nightgown.

"It's okay, milady", she started in a soft tone. "I know I'm not a very good maid. I'll try to get better so you don't have to do all this work yourself."

Clarke's head was covered for a few seconds while she put the long camisole with Lexa's help, but she chuckled lightly when her gaze met the brunette's once again.

"Don't worry about it. It's not like I have a tight schedule every day."

Clarke smiled sadly at her maid and, for the first time, Lexa felt sorry for her. It was not likely for the brunette to feel this way about privileged people who always had everything they wanted, but this girl seemed so lost, so lonely. Maybe there was something she could do about it… But should she? It was better to just stick to her almost invisible spot as the maid and not create any reason to draw attention to herself.

"Good night, Lexa."

"Good night, milady."


	3. Chapter 3

"Milady, I really don't think that's a good-"

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Lexa. Let's live a little!"

Lexa sighed loudly and followed her very excited mistress along the tents that were arranged around the village's central square. There was a festivity going on with loud music, greasy food and a lot of beer, the kind of things Lexa loved, but having to babysit Clarke in the middle of this mess was not the greatest idea.

It all began a few weeks ago, after they came to terms. Clarke was still her usual moody self and Lexa continued as silent as possible, but the tension had gone away and now they were getting along. Lexa could sense that something was clearly wrong with the girl, who didn't feel like going out of the house and spent most of the day locked inside her study, where no one was allowed inside. She looked depressed.

But after a few days, when the sun started to come out more often as Summer got closer, Clarke decided to take a few morning strolls with Lexa. They didn't chat much, as usual, but they certainly were spending more time together. One day, Clarke asked about the village and Lexa told her all about it, probably a little more enthusiastically than she should, and soon the lady wanted to visit the local settlement.

The first few visits were rather quick. Clarke wasn't extremely excited about anything in particular; she just looked around and watched as people went by and did their jobs. It must be curious for an aristocrat to see the life of the working class, with their routines and places to be.

However, when they arrived at the village earlier that afternoon and saw the little tents, Clarke's face lit up in a way Lexa had never seen before. For the first time, the girl seemed actually happy about something, and after the first glass of beer she was drunk. It was already dark and most of the people in the village were the workers and farmers who lived nearby, all getting drunk and dancing around the band something that was miles away from the waltz Clarke was used to. Nonetheless, the girl found it amazing and even tried to do it herself a few times.

"Good evening, Miss Woods", greeted Kane with a little bow, holding the edge of his hat. "And this must be Lady Griffin, I suppose?"

"Nice to meet you", said Clarke with a wild smile, cheeks already flushed from the alcohol. She wasn't usually that friendly. "Are you a friend of Lexa's? She never tells me anything."

Lexa just shot a sideways glance to Kane and shrugged. The man didn't seem to mind the comment. "I'm Marcus Kane, owner of the local book shop. Miss Woods is a regular customer of mine, and you are also welcome at any time, Lady Griffin. It would be an honor to help you find something to read."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you, Mister Kane."

As soon as he was out of sight, Clarke turned around and got closer to Lexa, her lips almost touching the other girl's ear as she spoke. "You never told me about him."

"There was really not much to say", she answered while taking a step back, creating some distance between them. The chills that went over her body when Clarke's breath touched her skin were really, really disturbing. "He is just the shop owner. I go there sometimes to buy books."

"He is kind of handsome. Is there a Mrs. Kane?"

Lexa sighed and tried to not get too annoyed by Clarke's innuendo. "I don't think there is, milady, and I really don't care."

"Well, you should. He is an eligible future husband."

After a few more glasses of beer - far less than Lexa needed, but far more than Clarke could handle - the blonde was having a hard time just standing up. Lexa had to almost carry her back to their carriage, feeling grateful that Abby wasn't in town, because she certainly would never hear the end of it if she brought Clarke back in this state to her mother. However, there was Gertha, who would probably be just as mad as Lady Griffin herself.

Lexa maneuvered Clarke to sit down inside the carriage and slided on the bench after closing the door behind her. As soon as the horses began to gallop, Clarke let out a little shout of surprise, making Lexa fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"Are you alright, milady?"

"I am quite fine, Lexa", stated Clarke in a groggy voice, "and I don't understand why we are leaving so soon!"

"I'm sure you don't", answered Lexa with an amused tone. This was going to be quite a ride. "They have this festival every other week during Summer; I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to-"

"Your eyes are really beautiful", said Clarke all of the sudden, and Lexa stopped talking at once. The blonde was staring intensely at her maid's face like if it was the first time she had seen her, which was making Lexa feel very uncomfortable.

"Erm… Thanks, milady", she answered while sliding towards the door, trying to create some space between her and Clarke.

They felt silent after this little exchange. Clarke got a little less giggly and just stared out of the window all the way back to the estate. Lexa watched her with worried eyes. Something was a little off, even for a drunk girl.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing", said Clarke, still staring at the window.

"You can talk to me", announced Lexa softly, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Which actually wasn't so hard, because as soon as the words left her mouth she knew they were true. Somehow she cared about the blonde and wanted her to feel better.

Clarke turned around slowly, staring at Lexa's big green eyes in silence for a few seconds, as if she was deciding whether she could trust the girl or not. Maybe it was the loneliness of the big house and the country life, or maybe it was just the beer making its way through her veins, but somehow she decided she wanted to talk.

"When I was younger, I didn't really like fairs. I always thought they were too crowded, too loud, and people behaved too silly, but my father loved them, and to make him happy I would attend some with him. One day I was waiting for him to finish his round at the shooting tent, all alone, and then, suddenly, everything changed."

"What happened?"

"I met someone who made me see everything differently", she said in a whisper, and didn't speak again until they got back to the estate.

* * *

Lexa decided it was better to not bring up the subject the next morning, when Clarke looked like she was going to murder somebody. It seemed like it was her first time nursing a hangover, so Lexa tried her best to take care of her mistress without asking too many questions. Even though she had convinced herself that Clarke's life was dull and didn't interest her one bit, she couldn't help feeling a little curious about the blonde's statement last night in the carriage. Who was this someone she had talked about? The only thing Lexa knew about Clarke's past was that her father had passed away over a year ago. All the rest was unclear.

Much to the Clarke's dismay, she didn't have the whole day to recover from the hangover. A few hours after lunch, a couple of unexpected visitors came to the house and greeted the girl with such enthusiasm that one might think they were members of the same family.

"My dearest Clarke, how have you been?" The woman was the first to speak as she held Clarke in a tight embrace, kissing her cheek afterwards. She was around their age, probably eighteen, and had beautiful features as well as elegant clothes. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"It's so lovely to see you, Octavia", she announced politely, returning the girl's warm smile but still a little put off by all this affection. Lexa could notice that Clarke was a bit cold even with her closest friends. "And you too, Bellamy."

The man took a step forward and kissed Clarke's hand, surprising the girl with his courtesy. "You look as beautiful as ever, Clarke. Or should I address you as Lady Griffin now?"

Octavia bursted out in laughter as Clarke smirked at her friend's silliness. "Don't be absurd, Bellamy! We've known each other since we were able to speak."

"He thinks he's a grown up now", mocked Octavia while patting her brother's shoulder. "Don't be surprised if he asks you to marry him before tea is served."

Bellamy glared at his sister and the girls let out a comfortable laugh, moving to the library so they could be seated. Lexa found the whole thing very surprising; after three months in absolute solitude she was sure Clarke had no friends, at least not in Burnley. If she did, she never spoke of them, or made any efforts to announce her presence. But of course the news about her arrival in the estate wouldn't be concealed for too long, especially after her constant strolls in the village.

When the library door closed, Lexa made her way downstairs to her quarters, but before she could reach the hallway, Mrs. Langer intercepted her and brought her down to the kitchen.

"Millicent and the footmen went to the village twenty minutes ago", she announced in some kind of distress. "If I had known there would be such an illustrious visit, I wouldn't have let them go!"

The brunette tried to look sympathetic, but this was one of these situations when the housekeeper got too excited about something that seemed very unimportant. Clarke didn't look like she needed a group of servants around her when she was having a nice time with her friends, who, by the way, were nothing but a couple of teenagers.

"They didn't seemed very illustrious", added the girl under her breath, but of course Mrs. Langer caught that.

"Oh, my dear girl, you don't know who they are, do you?" Her tone was almost pitiful. Lexa just stared blankly at the intense woman and shook her head. "The Blakes own everything from Padiham to Blackburn. Lord Edmond Blake, our visitor's father, is the Earl of Altham."

As usual, the maid didn't seem very surprised by the title-dropping the housekeeper loved to do every now and then. Itt was just a bunch of words said by some king or queen hundreds of years ago in exchange for money. This didn't make anyone better or more important.

"And do you know who is going to inherit this title?" Lexa had a clue, but Mrs. Langer didn't care to wait for an answer. "That lovely boy who is sitting in our library, waiting for his tea that is now very late!"

Usually it wasn't one of Lexa's duties to bring Clarke's tea, even though she was still getting used to this high class shenanigans of who does what, but since Millicent was out it was expected for her to do it, and Mrs. Langer must be very desperate because even after all the effort Lexa and Clarke put on covering the girl's lack of abilities as a maid, the housekeeper had picked up several mistakes during the past months.

"Do you think you can manage it without any accidents, Miss Woods?"

"Of course, Mrs. Langer." The brunette picked up the tray and hoped that she didn't drop anything on the floor, because there was a flight of stairs and several hallways separating her from the tea's final destination.

Things got a little better after she left Mrs. Langer's cautious eyes and soon she was at the library, entering without making any noise to not draw attention.

"But you must have seen something, Clarke", said a very eager Octavia, "or heard some talk about it. It's all over the newspapers."

"I really try to not get involved."

"How can you say that?" Octavia stared at her friend in disbelief. "You were always such a rebel, Clarke. Whenever I read something about a protest in London I immediately picture your face in the middle of the rioting crowd."

Lexa's eyes narrowed at the comment and she slowed down her pace, searching for a hint of humor in Octavia's face. This could only be some kind of joke. Lady Clarke Griffin, stoic as ever, branding chants in the middle of Hyde Park, running away from guards on her expensive high-heeled boots?

"That was teenage nonsense", explained Clarke in a calm tone, but Lexa noticed that she shifted in her seat. Something about this subject was making her uncomfortable. "I grew out of it."

"This is not a children's rebellion against their parents, Clarke, it's women's rights! Of course we should be involved. Even Bell cares about it!"

Bellamy nodded to his sister and faced Clarke. "Octavia is right. This is an important moment in our history and women must have the right to vote. Plus, if there is actually a war as they are saying, there won't be many men behind to take care of things. You will all be in charge."

"That's nonsense", stated Clarke nonchalantly. "There isn't going to be a war. This is the 20th Century; I'm pretty sure we can solve our differences civilly."

Lexa couldn't help letting out a snort. She was halfway serving the tea on the third cup, and if she had known any better she would've finish the task and leave the room without being noticed. Now it was too late: three heads were already turned at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I'm sorry, miladies, and milord", she said while looking down. "The tea is served."

"There's no need for apologies", said Octavia in an amused tone, still gazing at the maid. "I've never seen you before. Are you from London?"

"Yes, milady. I'm Lady Griffin's new maid."

"Her name is Lexa Woods", added Clarke as she grabbed a cup of tea. "She's a friend of my mother's."

This phrase was enough to explain to the siblings that Lexa was no ordinary maid, but they didn't seem to mind her comment at all, still a little intrigued by the brunette.

"Is this your first time here, Miss Woods?", asked Bellamy.

Lexa raised her head and looked at the visitors. They seemed nice enough and even though they were obviously high-born and had a nobility title like Clarke's family, they weren't arrogant.

"Yes, milord."

"That's funny", he said narrowing his eyes at the young maid. "I have this feeling that I have seen you before."

"Don't mind my brother", added Octavia with a smirk, "he always says that to pretty girls."

Bellamy blushed a little, but he ended up laughing with his sister and Clarke. Lexa just gave them a small bow and left the rich kids to continue discussing their distorted views of the world.

* * *

Clarke didn't seem to acknowledge her friends in any way after they left, speaking nothing about their visit to Lexa or any other maid. Mrs. Langer tried to start some conversation about Bellamy's nice looks after dinner, but the blonde barely gave her the time of day. They were all very used to their mistress' silence and knew it was better to not push her to talk.

On the next weekend it was Lexa's day off and she went to the village to meet Indra for lunch. The older woman seemed very excited about something, quickly dragging her friend to a corner and sitting on a table where no one could hear their conversation.

"I've gathered another twelve supporters around town", she whispered softly. "It seems like this place isn't so alienated after all. The locals are starting to pick up the news about what's happening in London."

This information made sense, especially after Lexa heard the apparently alienated Lady Octavia Blake talking about women's rights. If a countess from Altham was interest in the matter, it was only natural that some supporters would appear in Burnley sooner or later.

"I think it's enough for us to create a branch of WSPU here. We can meet every Saturday evening after dinner. I already got a place and a good cover."

Lexa was taken aback by the sudden proposition. Of course she missed the political activity more than anything, but she was just starting to get used to the dull country life and, in consequence, hiding. This could make her a target again.

"This is a dangerous business, Indra", she began after the waiter had left their table. "Can we really trust these people? I hear Mrs. Pankhurst has been sentenced to three years in prison. WSPU isn't doing so fine lately."

"You should hear yourself", said the older woman with disdain. "You came here full of ideas of revolution, and for what? Just so you could lay off and get comfy in three months? I honestly thought higher of you, Lexa."

Lexa felt her jaw clench as she dangerously glared at her companion. "Watch your words, Indra. You may have visited the world and seen a lot of things, but I've been on the fight for two years, getting myself into the most unimaginable dangers. I lost my family for this cause."

"Poor you", she added with a humorless laugh. "Kicked out of the house by daddy. Do you know what loss actually feels like, Lexa? I lost my husband to this cause. He left me because he couldn't stand seeing me go into the riots and the bombings and now he's dead."

Lexa stared at the woman in disbelief. They had been meeting for a while, but she never talked about a husband or a lover. The girl thought Indra was just a loner soul, a woman without an anchor. But the pain in her eyes looked real enough, and soon she was on her feet and throwing a newspaper on the table.

"Everyone has to lose something so this goal can happen, girl. You're lucky it isn't your freedom or even your life, like this poor soul."

Before Lexa could process everything that was happening, Indra was out of the diner's door, and she felt her eyes drift to the article on the newspaper's first page.

 _Suffragette Emily Wilding Davison is killed by a horse at the Epsom Derby after attempting to start a protest in favor of women's rights._


	4. Chapter 4

"You seem rather distracted today, Lexa", noted Clarke with a hint of concern on her voice while her maid finished tightening up her corset.

"I'm sorry, milady", replied the girl, forcing a smile. "I was just thinking about a friend."

"A friend, huh?" Clarke smiled mischievously. "Is it the owner of the book shop, Mr. Kane?"

"No, milady. He is hardly a friend."

Lexa's tone made clear to Clarke that she wasn't willing to talk about the subject, so the blonde just dropped it. She moved to the dressing table and her maid quickly followed, eager to finish the hairdo and be out of that inquisition about her nonexistent love affairs in the Burnley village.

"How did you find the Blakes?" Clarke looked at her with curiosity through the mirror, making Lexa's hands still for a brief second when she met the bright blue eyes' reflection.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, milady."

"Why not? Didn't you chat with them for a little while yesterday?"

"Yes, but I'm not supposed to give opinions about people I don't really know. Especially not the noble ones."

Clarke smirked at the comment. "I'm asking for your honesty, Lexa. As a first impression, how do you find them?"

"They seem alright for a pair of-" Lexa cut her speech mid-sentence and raised her head to find Clarke's curious gaze once again. The blonde seemed very amused.

"Go on. A pair of rich kids who know nothing, I presume". She didn't seem mad at Lexa for thinking that way. "I could sense your disdain at us from miles, Lexa. You weren't very subtle."

"I'm sorry, milady", she began softly.

"That's alright, I don't mind. And neither do Octavia and Bellamy", she added with a reassuring smile, urging Lexa to continue the hairdo. "Unlike what you might think of us, we aren't very fond of formalities, not like our parents and grandparents are. This is the Twentieth Century, after all."

"Don't let Mrs. Langer hear you say that", added Lexa, and they shared a laugh together.

When the maid approached the closet to put back Clarke's camisole, the blonde got closer to Lexa's back and reached forward, picking up a dress that was hanging there. Lexa took a step back and bumped into Clarke, who didn't seem to mind the sudden proximity.

"Isn't this beautiful", she said in a daydream, staring at the dress and ignoring Lexa's frantic heartbeat. "I think I'll finally have a reason to take this out of the closet."

"Were you invited to a party, milady?"

"Yes. The Blakes are having a ball for Octavia's eighteenth birthday in a month."

Clarke finally let the dress go and went to the door, giving Lexa some room to breath again. She never thought that the proximity to her mistress would give her such a thrill. This was a problem.

"Then I must start asking around for hairstyling tips", said the maid while following the blonde out of the room, "because as you might now, milady, I can barely make your hair look decent for staying inside, let alone for such an important event."

"Don't worry about it", said Clarke, reassuringly. "We'll figure it out."

* * *

Saturday came by and Lexa managed to sneak out of the estate after dinner without anyone seeing her, because Mrs. Langer surely would have several questions about an unaccompanied girl walking around the village after hours. Even though Lexa didn't give a damn about this, she was worried that the housekeeper might tell Clarke about it, and the mistress surely wouldn't let her see the end of it, asking about Mr. Kane and secret romantic rendezvous.

Indra didn't show any hint of emotion when she saw Lexa entering the now closed book shop, but she didn't made any attempts to keep her from participating. She had her reasons to still be disappointed at the young girl and, to be honest, Lexa was a little disappointed at herself. A couple of months at this lifestyle really changed her, and now she wasn't willing to let the flame of revolution die inside of her, even if it meant going to jail. That sacrifice was nothing compared to what happened to poor Emily, who a few months ago was helping Lexa carry a bomb inside Lloyd George's kitchen and now was dead.

"I don't think I need to remember you all again", started Indra in a serious tone, "that this meeting is secret and all members of this group are here by invitation. If anyone new wants to join us, the matter must be put to a vote. But remember: our position is very fragile and we must be discrete, because the local authorities will be on to us the minute they see something unusual going on."

Everyone remained quiet and Lexa got a chance to finally look around to see her new comrades. They were women on their majority, but there were also some men involved. Some faces were familiar from her strolls on the village: the butcher's daughter, Ethel, who looked very tough and not afraid of anything (which was believable since she spent most of her days helping her father cut animals open); Lilian and Maurice Lenton, the owners of the apothecary; Clemence, a lawyer's wife; and two brothers who Lexa remembered as Quint and Tristan but didn't know exactly what they did for a living. The others were a mystery to her.

"I would also like to thank Mr. Kane for letting us meet in his book store, which is very brave of him."

Kane came out from behind the counter, where he was just finishing putting together a pile of books. He smiled politely at Indra and joined the group in the circle of chairs.

"It is a pleasure and also a duty. I am a believer of this cause as well."

He turned around and met Lexa's gaze, giving the girl a reassuring smile. She responded to it with a small nod. Of course she knew something was up with Kane when Indra set them up to get some subversive books, but she didn't expect him to actually join the party.

The meeting went on for around an hour until it became too unnerving for the wives and daughters to be absent from their houses. Lexa also had a long ride to the estate by foot, though she didn't mind walking during the pleasant summer night. Indra offered her a ride on her car, which was more likely someone else's car that she had borrowed.

"Thank you for coming today, Lexa", she started when they reached the estate's back door. "I know I've been hard on you, but that's because I have a lot of faith in your future."

"Thank you." Lexa just gave her a nod and a discreet smile. There wasn't much to say; she was just glad to be active again. She opened the door and hopped out of the car, waving at the driver.

"Just be careful, and remember", she added before Lexa was out of her sight, "they can't take anything from you if you have nothing to lose."

The car's engine was back on and soon there was nothing but blackness surrounding Lexa at the open fields of the estate's garden.

* * *

When Lexa thought she was going to throw Mrs. Langer at the fireplace if she mentioned the Blake's ball one more time, the day of the event finally came by, but due to a terrible coincidence the maid wasn't able to accompany her mistress to Altham.

Turns out that the ball was going to happen at the very same day that WSPU organized a large-scale peaceful protest in London's Hyde Park, and even though Lexa was trying to be as careful as possible to not get arrested, Indra's inflamed speech about giving their sisters some support was enough to convince the thirteen members of the Burnley WSPU to go to London just in time for the protest and then return immediately after it was over. Lexa wanted to go really badly because the event had been announced in several newspapers and it was likely to gather thousands of people and give visibility to the cause, but she knew it was a bad idea. Even after fours months in Burnley, she was still on London Police's black list.

Indra assured her that the place would be crowded. At least 10,000 people were expected, coming from all around the country just to show their support. She even came up with a plan for Lexa to mingle better with the crowd: she would get one of Clarke's gowns and pretend she was from a higher class. The guards would probably be looking for a working class girl with worn out clothes or even a men's attire, so they would never realize it was her. Since Clarke was supposed to go to Altham at least one day before the ball, it would be easy to sneak out a dress and get it back before she even noticed.

The hardest part was to get an excuse to not go to the ball, since accompanying a maiden to such an event was one of the highlights of a maid's job. Clarke wasn't as excited about it as Mrs. Langer, but she was happy to finally have something to think about and she seemed glad that Lexa was going with her. It was only a week before the trip that Lexa worked up the courage and told Clarke that her father was extremely ill and probably wouldn't last through the weekend.

The blonde was touched by the story and let Lexa go back to London, relieving her from her duties. Mrs. Langer, on the other hand, was as suspicious as ever. She never really liked Lexa and made that clear at every chance she got. The only one happy with the arrangement was Millicent, who was promoted to chaperone at what they had been calling "the most important event of the year".

On the morning after Clarke left, Lexa carefully sneaked inside the lady's room and took the simplest dress she was able to find, as well as a pair of not so new shoes. By eight o'clock, Indra arrived in a carriage to pick her up and they left the estate.

It was a seven-hour ride to London and the city was packed. Nothing like they expected: it was even better. Later they found out that 50,000 people attended the protest and the issue of women's suffrage was being talked about around the world, making the headlines on almost every newspaper in Europe and America.

Mrs. Pankhurst was also there, having successfully left prison after starting a hunger strike. Many incarcerated suffragettes used this method to create a problem to the Government, who didn't want to be responsible for any deaths inside their prisons. So when the physical state of the inmate got bad, they released her and took her back when she was feeling better, doing this as many times as needed. Obviously Mrs. Pankhurst was fine and she would be back to jail after the protest was over, but right now it was her time to shine.

Lexa didn't have the courage to greet any of her WSPU colleagues, in part because she was keeping her cover the best way possible, but also because she couldn't help feeling ashamed. Going back to London put her right back where she had always been, fighting for something she believed in without fearing the consequences. She saw the women looking thin and weak after so many hunger strikes and days inside prison, and they were still there, marching for their cause. There were several families, small children, husbands, fathers and even some important politicians who were now openly supporting women's suffrage. The movement was a success and Lexa resented not being a part of it anymore, even though she was trying her best to do whatever she could from a safe distance.

"It's only for a few more months, Lexa", said Indra over the chanting crowd. "You'll be back here in no time."

"I just wish I could stay."

"You can. But you shouldn't. You're still learning, and there's a lot to do from outside prison. Stay in Burnley until the end of your promised year and you'll be back with something to give them."

Indra gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and joined the supporting words of the crowd. Lexa looked around and let herself forget for a moment that she was a runaway criminal, a homeless girl, a fatherless daughter, an aristocrat's fake maid, and decided to just be herself for the rest of the day - a woman who cared.

* * *

Everything went according to plan and the next day Clarke was back home, full of stories about dances, gossip, bad clothing choices and other rich people's nonsense. It was a bit shocking for Lexa to return to this world after spending a day in London, but she made an effort to just nod and smile, even though she wasn't hearing a single word of it.

If Clarke noticed it, she didn't say a thing. The blonde was happier than Lexa had ever seen her, as if life was returning to her body slowly. Whatever happened to her, maybe it was starting to drift away at last. It was a good thing, and Lexa couldn't really blame her for being so futile. It was just the way she was raised.

A couple of days after the ball, Lexa returned from her morning walk to a very excited kitchen. Mrs. Langer was up and about, spilling orders and complaining about the food, the laziness, the cleaning. Everyone seemed in a hurry, picking up silverware and chopping vegetables at insane speeds.

"Thank Heaven's you're back", she announced out of breath when she saw the maid, "you must get her ladyship ready for luncheon. Lord Blake is here."

Lexa frowned. Clarke and Bellamy had been together not so long ago; what could he possibly be doing in Burnley right now, and without announcing his visit? It was one thing to drop by for tea, but to come at lunch time without an invitation was a little out of character for an aristocrat.

"Was he invited?"

"If he was, her ladyship didn't tell me", said Mrs. Langer as she repositioned some silverware on a platter.

Millicent pulled a large cooked chicken out of the oven and looked at Lexa with in a conspiratory smirk. "We think he is courting her."

"Millicent!" Mrs. Langer wasn't going to have this in her kitchen right now. "Stop gossiping and go back to work!"

The girl shuddered and returned to her duties at once, clearly afraid of Mrs. Langer. Lexa just stood there a couple more seconds, thinking about what Millicent just said. So Bellamy was more than a friend? Maybe they were to be engaged? This wouldn't be surprising considering their titles and the fact that they were childhood friends. A merge between Altham and Burnley could be a great thing for both families.

"Hurry up, girl", yelled Mrs. Langer from the other side of the kitchen, waking Lexa up from her thoughts. "The lady is waiting!"

And so she flew up the stairs as fast as possible, still having a hard time believing Clarke was getting married to Bellamy. Somehow this affected her, even though it shouldn't matter. First, because she wasn't even friends with the girl, and second because in eight months she wouldn't even be there anymore. By the time Clarke became a Blake, Lexa would probably be back at the riots in London. It would be like they've never met.

Before she could reach the second flight of stairs that led to the bedrooms, she stopped abruptly when Bellamy crossed the foyer in a hurry.

"Miss Woods", he greeted in a serious tone, much more aggravated than the last time he saw her. "I'm leaving now. Make sure Lady Griffin is not to be disturbed."

"Oh", said Lexa, "your lordship won't be staying for luncheon?"

"I'm afraid not. Lady Griffin isn't feeling very well, so I'll just let her rest". He put on his hat and buttoned his coat in a hurry. "And I strongly suggest you give her some time alone as well. Have a nice day, Miss Woods."

* * *

The absurd amount of food that was cooked in a hurry earlier that afternoon was mostly thrown away when Lexa told Mrs. Langer about Bellamy's sudden departure. Clarke also didn't show up for lunch, or for any of the following meals. Lexa tried to check on her mistress only once, respecting the advice the young Lord had given her before, and the blonde just told her through the closed door to stay away.

It was only a few hours after the servant's dinner, when the maid was lying on her bed reading, that she met the bright blue eyes once again. Clarke stepped inside the humble room with resolution stamped all over her face, carrying a small candlestick.

"Milady", said Lexa in a hurry while getting up, "what can I do for you?"

"We need to talk", announced the blonde in a cold tone. Something in that voice made a shiver go through Lexa's body, making her suddenly aware that Clarke was standing in her room in the middle of the night, long past the servant's bedtime. No one had seen her coming in.

"You could have ringed the bell, milady, and I would be up in your room in a matter of seconds", explained Lexa as if she was talking to a small child. All the rooms had ropes connected to small bells at the servant's kitchen downstairs, so if any of the inhabitants needed something, the sound would surely wake up Mrs. Langer and maybe some of the others.

"You can stop talking like that now." Clarke took a step further, blue eyes meeting green with a dangerous glow as she continued in a husky low tone, "you can stop pretending."

Lexa's eyes narrowed as she felt the warmth spread through her body and she cursed herself for being so susceptible to Clarke's presence. She was no blushing maiden, after all, so being alone with a beautiful woman shouldn't make her feel like that: so completely vulnerable.

"I'm not sure I understand, milady", she whispered softly, her voice trembling slightly.

"I'm sure you do, Lexa." The blonde stood a few inches from her maid, staring at her deeply and waiting for something to happen. The air was charged between them, but Lexa was still unsure what this was all about. It was very unlike Clarke to act like this, but then again, she didn't knew the girl that well. They had been living together for a little over four months, and not even as friends. Even though they eventually got along, the boundaries between them were very clear - she was a maid, and Clarke was her boss.

But all those rational thoughts got messed up inside the brunette's head when Clarke's scent invaded her nostrils as she got even closer, never stopping her continuous approach, her expression still hard and serious but her cheeks a little bit flushed under the dim candlelight.

"What do you want?" The words left Lexa's mouth more like a plea than a question, resulting on a cold smirk from her counterpart.

"I want the truth about you", said the blonde. "I want you to tell me everything. Absolutely everything."

Lexa took a sharp breath and let her eyes fall to those pink lips for a second, not sure if Clarke had noticed. Whatever the blonde was trying to do, it was working, because the other girl was ready to open up and tell her everything. She wondered how Clarke found out that Lexa was into girls. Was it something she said? The way she acted around her mistress when she was changing her clothes? The red on her cheeks when Clarke got too close?

"Can you tell me?"

I can show you, thought Lexa in a burst of courage, clearing the final inches between them and softly bringing her lips to the blonde's.

It had been so long since she had been this close to someone that she had almost forgotten how soft a woman's lips could be, how nice their hair smelled, how stiff their curves felt against her hands.

On Clarke's part, everything was quite still. The girl didn't back away immediately when the kiss started, but she also didn't respond at first. It was only a few seconds after Lexa had embraced her that she moved her lips slightly and pressed her body against the brunette's, letting the warmth of her touch finally spread through.

When Lexa was about to deepen the kiss, the blonde took a step back and stared at her in horror.

"Get off me", she announced harshly, making her way to the opposite side of the room. Lexa just panted and looked at her without moving, afraid that she had crossed the line. But the signals were so clear...

"I could denounce you to the police for this", she added quickly, suddenly out of breath. "And it wouldn't be your first crime, would it?"

Lexa narrowed her eyes at the lady and took a step closer, still keeping a safe distance between them. "Excuse me?"

"I know everything about your previous life", spilled the blonde with disdain, "about your criminal life. The burnt down houses, the deprecation of public property, the bombings, the murders-"

"I am not a murderer!"

"But you don't deny the rest?" Clarke closed her robe tightly, like if it was some sort of way to defend herself, even though Lexa was glued to the floor, eyes locked on the blonde's.

"No", she confessed firmly. In this situation, she might as well tell the whole truth, since her days at the Griffin's estate were likely over. "How did you find out?"

"Bellamy did. There was a picture of the London protest in the newspaper and he saw you in the crowd. You were wearing one of my dresses."

"I'm sorry about that, but -"

"I am not done", continued Clarke, "Bellamy was intrigued by the picture and made some calls about you. It seems like you're wanted by the London Police."

"Very well", stated Lexa with her chin up, taking a step closer to her mistress. "I won't deny any of these facts because they are all true. But if you at least let me tell you why I'm here -"

"Get out", asked Clarke firmly, pointing to the door. "And never get anywhere near me again! If it wasn't bad enough being a terrorist, you are also an abomination!"

"How can you say something like that? You kissed me back!"

"How dare you!" Clarke stared at her in disbelief. "Help!" The blonde opened the door and started yelling to whomever was able to hear her. "Will someone come here, please? Help!"

"That's really not necessary", started Lexa with a worried look, trying to get closer to Clarke, only to be shoved away again.

"I think I'll be the judge of that, Miss Woods. Help!"

"Clarke, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do something you didn't want. Just let me go and I'll leave without causing any trouble."

"What's happening?" Mrs. Langer appeared all of the sudden on the threshold of Lexa's door, looking very disheveled. "Milady, what are you doing down here?"

"Wake up the footmen, Mrs. Langer", said Clarke in a firm tone, "and tell them to escort Miss Woods out of this property right away. She no longer works here and must be kept away from the estate at all costs."

Gertha Langer, who never really liked Lexa in the first place, glared at the brunette from head to toes, burning her frame with silent accusations. "What did this one do?"

"Nothing", protested Lexa, not willing to go without at least trying to defend her honor.

"This is between me and Miss Woods", added Clarke, "and is not up for discussion. Do as I say, Gertha, and if she ever sets foot here again, call the police."

With that, Clarke left the servant's dorm hall without looking back.


	5. Chapter 5

After being escorted out - not at all gently - by two tall footmen who could carry her with ease, Lexa did as Clarke asked and stayed away from the estate. She had two options: going back to London, which was still very dangerous, especially now that Bellamy had been stirring up her criminal file, and God knows what else he had told the police about her; or staying in the Burnley village for a few more months, finding herself another job and hope that Clarke wouldn't call the police on her.

Of course things would be a little easier if it wasn't for the kiss. That stupid, ridiculous and also amazing kiss that she gave away without thinking twice, so desperate to feel Clarke's body pressed against hers. But she wasn't mistaken: she did feel the girl kiss her back, even if just for a second, before pulling away and throwing her out of the house.

Lexa knew stories about queer people being arrested for "making advances" at someone, usually among men, because a woman's denounce wasn't taken very serious by the police, unless she was high born like Clarke. Lexa had only been involved with one girl and it was Costia, who was just as poor as her, and she responded Lexa's affections very eagerly. This was the first time the brunette found herself involved in such a scandal, and all because she couldn't control her lust towards a noble woman. She should've known better.

Before she realized, her feet took her to the back door of Mr. Kane's book shop, where the man's house was located. The reasonable thing to do would be seeking shelter at Indra's house, since they were closer friends, but she didn't want to bother her family, especially if Clarke decided to go through with her threats and send the police looking for her. So she decided to just knock on the door a few times until Mr. Kane, who lived by himself, appeared on the threshold with his eyes still foggy from sleep. It was the middle of the night, after all.

Indra came to see Lexa as soon as the news arrived at her house through the message Kane sent her after breakfast. They didn't talk much; Kane noticed how quiet the girl was about the whole situation and decided to write as much as he could about it in his letter, so Indra wouldn't have to make her say everything again. Lexa had spent the entire night awake, looking through some of the books in the closed store, until Kane announced it was time for breakfast. Even after her meeting with Indra, Lexa didn't felt like sleeping. She didn't felt like anything at all.

The older woman went up to the estate to retrieve Lexa's things, which were left untouched around her room. She was not very welcomed by Mrs. Langer, who heard some horrible things about that "rioting peasant and terrorist", but Indra made her way inside after a very threatening speech about stolen private property and her martial arts training in China during the late 1890's.

The task didn't take too long because Lexa didn't own many things, having departed London in a hurry. Most of her stuff was gathered during her time in Burnley, such as a couple of dresses and the remains of her three-piece suit, the same one she had worn at the night of the bombing, as well as a dozen books she got from Kane's store, a comb and a toothbrush. The remaining clothing were three maid uniforms that belonged to the Griffin household.

When she was about to leave the room, Indra stopped and hesitated for a moment. She had known Lexa for only a few months and they didn't talk much about their personal lives, only political matters, so it was difficult to make out something about the brunette. But she sensed that her quarrel with Clarke had something more to it than a simple case of fake identity. This thought worried her quite a lot - nothing good would ever come out of this friendship, or whatever the relationship between them was - however, for Lexa's sake, she decided to overcome her protective senses and leave on the bed table a small note holding her home address. Just in case someone decided to search for a clue about Lexa's new whereabouts.

Indra left her address on the note and not Kane's because she was already planning Lexa's move to her house. It was not suitable for a single woman to live under the same roof as a single man, especially when they weren't even remotely related, and even though Indra and Lexa didn't care much about this kind of thing it was smart to avoid the talk. People enjoyed gossip, so the presence of a pretty young thing at the lonely book shop owner's house would certainly draw unnecessary attention to the girl.

By that same evening, Lexa was already settled at the attic of the Ehlathini household, now an empty room after Indra's brother's departure. The place was very small and a little dusty for not being used in a while, but it had a comfortable bed and it was for free, at least while Lexa didn't figure out what she was going to do for a living. Mrs. and Mr. Ehlathini, Indra's parents, welcomed the young brunette with open arms, even though they didn't have much to share.

"Kane has offered me a position at the book shop", said Lexa as she sat on a comfortable chair by the window, enjoying the last warm sunrays of that summer day after dinner. Indra took a sit on the couch right next to her, sipping on a bit of brandy. This was usually a gentlemen's habit, but they were both passed that, and Mrs. and Mr. Ehlathini had already gone to bed.

"And what did you say?"

"I said I would think about it", she answered with a sigh, eyes still lost on the mountains behind the small village cottages. She thought that maybe she was able to see the estate from there, if she tried hard enough. "I don't want to involve Mr. Kane in my troubles. He is a very nice man and I wouldn't forgive myself for bringing someone else into this mess."

"Well", announced Indra as she filled up another glass of brandy, "maybe some of us want to be a part of it, my young girl. There's nothing you can do about that."

She gave the glass to Lexa, who accepted it with a warm smile. Indra just nodded; she wasn't much for expressing emotions but she made her message clear enough. She cared about that girl like if she was a younger sister, or maybe even the daughter she didn't have.

"If I get arrested, they may take those who helped me as well", started Lexa as soon as her companion sat down once again. She turned her head and stared gravely at Indra's deep brown eyes. "I can't let that happen."

"You're overlooking this whole situation. The police has their hands full lately; there have been uprisings all around London and the big cities. Not only about women's rights but about Ireland, the government, and even war. I think they are too busy to be looking for a nineteen year-old suffragette all around England."

Lexa took a large gulp of her brandy, emptying the glass at once. She opened her mouth to say something, to explain to her friend and comrade that being a suffragette right now was the least of her problems, that she could be arrested for biggest crimes, like romantically pursuing a lady inside her own house, in the middle of the night.

But she didn't say anything. She couldn't. So Lexa just turned her eyes towards the large window once again, ignoring the woman right next to her.

Indra caught the whole innuendo at once, already getting used to Lexa's reserved ways. She had been in far too many places and known too many people to realize that her friend was hiding something big behind those cold green eyes.

"That's not why the police would be looking for you, is it?" Indra leaned forward and rested her glass on the small table in front of the couch, but Lexa didn't even blink, still staring at the window. "Not just because of what you did in London or your connection with the WSPU. There's more."

"Yes, Indra, there's more", she confessed in a firm tone, turning her head to the woman. Finally, Lexa was done with studying the empty green mountains, realizing that even if she were able to see the estate from that window, she would never be able to see Clarke again, and that was the only reason she had been aimless staring into nothingness all this time. She nodded her head towards the mountains and said, "there's her."

The short phrase hung in the air for a few seconds without either women daring to speak, but both knew what had been said. Indra's suspicions were confirmed and so were her worries, because this could be the end of Lexa, and not only as a political force but as a person. She had never seen a love story between two girls end up well, especially between two girls from such different social backgrounds.

"This is a dangerous game that you are playing", started Indra, "one that can have no winners."

Lexa didn't answer. She just returned her gaze to the green mountains ahead, now getting covered by the night, and watched them until all was darkness.

* * *

Almost an entire month had passed since Lexa had moved to Indra's house and she was finally starting to get used to her new life, the second one she had gotten in less than six months. It was easier than the first one, though - being a small town working class girl was way better than being the maid of an aristocrat.

The days went by usually the same. In the morning she would have breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Ehlathini, who were polite and nice as always, but Indra almost never joined them, having spent most nights up until daylight studying, writing letters or making plans about her next trips. After that she would go to Kane's bookshop where she worked as his assistant. At first she insisted on not accepting the job, fearing that she was going to put him in danger, but after the first week without any news from the police she thought that Clarke was going to let the whole thing go and took his offer. She already spent most of her time in the book shop reading and searching through the volumes, eager to find out some new theories and stories about the new order that was taking over the world. By the end of the afternoon she would walk back to her new home, sometimes stopping by the market and picking up something to add to dinner, and after the meal she and Indra usually got together to discuss about the news until both of them went back to their rooms to read and sleep - or, in Indra's case, to keep working until late hours. The only thing they did different was attending the feminist meetings at the book shop on Saturday nights, which continued happening every week since its first edition.

It was a rainy Monday afternoon when Lexa finally saw Clarke again.

She was sitting behind the counter at the bookshop by herself for a couple of hours, since Mr. Kane had gone to a nearby village to have lunch with some relative. Now that he had Lexa helping him with the shop it was easier to leave the place in the middle of the week, and there wasn't much action in the store anyway. So Lexa just enjoyed the peace brought by the lazy sound of the rain while she turned the pages of an old book, so immersed in the reading that she barely heard the bell ringing, announcing that a client had arrived.

"Lexa?"

The girl raised her head, a little startled by the familiar husky voice that was calling her name. Clarke was standing there with wild eyes, water dripping from her closed umbrella, clearly not expecting to see her former maid behind the counter.

"Clarke", greeted Lexa, almost unable to contain a smile. But when she noticed the blonde fidgeting uncomfortably, she cleared her throat and put on a serious expression. "I mean, Lady Griffin. It's nice to see you again."

Clarke didn't answer, but Lexa didn't take it badly. After all, she thought she would never see the blonde again, so just sharing the same room with her was good enough for now. And the fact that Clarke hadn't ran away yet was also a good sign.

"May I help you with something?" She started again, waiting for the other girl to say something. Clarke was avoiding her gaze, looking at the books on the shelves behind her, nervously gripping the umbrella with both hands.

"Mr. Kane sent a note to me this morning", said the blonde in a formal tone, deciding to get all business like and get this over with. "He informed me that a novel that I ordered has arrived."

"Oh", said a surprised Lexa. She barely remembered seeing Clarke reading during the three months she lived in the state, but the girl spent most of her time locked in her study, doing God only knows what. She could be reading all this time and now she was out of books. Judging by what Lexa knew about her former mistress, she probably enjoyed some dramatic aristocratic romances, with dukes and countesses falling in love and being separated by war or arranged marriages and dying of sadness. Typical.

"So?" Clarke urged her to speak with one eyebrow up, not enjoying Lexa's silent stare. "Can I have it?"

"Mr. Kane has left for a meeting and is not returning until closing time, but there are some new arrivals here. I can get yours if you give me the title."

"The Valley of the Moon", stated Clarke.

Lexa's eyes narrowed. "By Jack London?"

"That is correct."

"Interesting", she murmured under her breath, bending down the counter to search for the book among the other orders. There it was, brand new and still smelling like print, having just been shipped from the United States. Lexa carefully put it on the counter instead of giving it to Clarke, who was waiting with a raised arm and an open hand.

The brunette put a hand on top of the book, keeping her customer from grabbing it just yet. She studied Clarke's blue eyes with a smirk forming on her lips.

"What is it, now?"

"Nothing", said Lexa shrugging. "I just didn't take you for the type of girl who read this kind of novel."

"And what kind it might be, if I may ask?"

"This story is about a working class family. Poor people struggling to get somewhere in life, broken relationships, and even a bit of socialism. It's kind of pessimist, and very realistic."

Clarke didn't say anything at first. Lexa stared at her and tried to read her emotions, sensing that at first the other girl was very, very angry, and she might have crossed this lingering line between them. But soon the polite mask she usually wore was back on, even though there was still a storm raging behind her eyes.

"Well, Miss Woods", she started gravely, "I don't believe I owe you any kind of explanation about my personal taste, but nonetheless I will give you one: I appreciate stories about real life and real people, as you put it, referring to people who are not high-born. As you might have noticed, the universe that I live in tends to get rather dull."

Lexa nodded slowly, really surprised not only by the small revealing speech, but by Clarke's interest on the simpler lifestyle of the working class. That girl held some surprises.

"Very well", announced the clerk, finally letting the book go. "I believe you have paid for the volume and the shipping beforehand?"

"Indeed", said Clarke, picking up the volume. She fumbled with it for a couple of seconds, as if she was thinking about something to say. "Thank you, and have a nice day."

"You too, milady". Lexa smiled at her with hope, though she found nothing but a very serious face. "It was nice seeing you again."

Without a word, Clarke gave a small nod and left the shop in a hurry, entering the car that was waiting for her outside.

* * *

Indra was the first one on the dinner table to notice Lexa's subtle mood change. Not that the girl was jumping around with joy after her brief encounter with Clarke, but she had been quite broody for the past few weeks and now she looked less tense, much more like the nineteen year-old she actually was. She even started helping Mrs. Ehlathini to cook dinner and engaged patiently on Mr. Ehlathini's farming talk like if she was quite the country enthusiast.

Her discussions with Indra after dinner got less one-sided, since the younger woman barely spoke before, and became a little heated. Lexa started reading even more, participating on the feminist meetings more keenly, and was even exercising every morning to clear her head and get in shape so she could be useful at the protests and other WSPU plans once she was back in London.

Clarke didn't return to the bookshop, but Lexa's mood was still up and going, because she had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before the blonde returned. There was just something about Clarke's words and the way she lingered at the bookshop that made Lexa sure their story wasn't over - on the contrary; it was a book still waiting to be written.

"You look happy lately", said Indra after her parents went upstairs to sleep. "That's a novelty."

Lexa just shrugged and took a sip of her brandy. It was a delicious Sunday evening, not so hot but not rainy like the past week had been. "I don't see anything different."

"Sure". The older woman shot Lexa a suspicious look, but before she could go any further with the interrogatory, a loud knock on the door caught her attention.

They didn't have any maids, so Indra got up and went to open the door by herself, revealing on the other side of the humble house a very flustered Lady Clarke Griffin. She was accompanied by Millicent, who was probably now her personal maid, and a car was waiting for them just across the narrow street.

"Good evening, is this Miss Ehlathini's residence?" Clarke spoke with gravity, trying her best to not feel intimidated by Indra's figure. The older woman was staring at her with a very dangerous look, sensing that nothing good could possibly come out of this visit - even though she was also guilty for giving Clarke her address in the first place.

"Yes, and I am her", she answered sharply. "May I help you?"

"I wish to speak to Miss Woods." The request was firm, but made in a low tone, almost like if she didn't want anyone to listen.

Indra stared her down once again, clearly displeased by her presence and everything she represented, but took a step aside nonetheless and motioned for the blonde to come inside. Clarke entered fast, as if she was afraid the woman would change her mind and slam the door back on her face. Millicent started to follow her mistress, but before she could enter the house, Clarke ordered her to wait outside.

"She is in the living room", announced Indra. "Follow me."

They walked down the small hallway and entered the living room, where Lexa was sitting comfortably in her usual chair, facing the green mountains as she usually did while drinking some bourbon and thinking about what Clarke would be doing at the opposite side of the field. She almost dropped her glass when she saw the blonde, at first imagining it was a vision. But the displeased look on Indra's face proved that the girl was very much there, making Lexa jump up in a hurry and take a step towards the illustrious visitor.

"Lady Griffin!" She did a small bow and continued, "what a pleasant surprise."

"And what a surprise it is", added Indra between her teeth, shooting a glare at Lexa. "Now I see what is different with you."

Lexa's cheeks turned bright red at Indra's comment, even though Clarke didn't seem to catch the exchange. She was studying the humble house with deep focus, probably wondering if it was the kind of scenario she read about on her new book. Or maybe she was just trying to figure out how could someone live in such a simple place, without any maids, cooks or servants of any kind.

"I'll just leave you two to it", said Indra while turning around, hoping to whomever was watching them to put some sense inside those girl's heads while there was still time.

As soon as she was gone, Lexa motioned towards the couch and Clarke took some hesitant steps forward, sitting on the edge of the worn out cushion, like if she was ready to jump back to her feet at any second. Lexa returned to her usual chair and faced the blonde with a blank expression, waiting for her to start talking.

"I have been thinking a lot about the circumstances of your detachment from the estate's body of servants, Lexa", started Clarke, pompous as ever. "More precisely, about the things that I have said to you that night. I am sorry if I offended you or your beliefs, but you must understand that I was very upset by your constant lying and the fact that you made a fool out of me for nearly three months."

"I did not, milady", interrupted Lexa leaning forward, aiming for Clarke's hand but giving up the touch at the last second. "And I am sorry if I made you feel this way. I never intended to lie to you, it was just something I had to do for my safety, as well as yours."

"I know that. I have written to Mama about this whole situation and she explained to me that she was the one who came up with the entire plan. That was clever of her and she managed to trick me, as usual", she added in a bitter tone.

"Milady", started Lexa, "I am sure she didn't mean you any harm. I only met her for one day, but she seemed like a really nice woman. She is also helping my friend Raven by taking her as maid in London to protect her from the police. Lady Griffin did this for us without asking anything in return."

"Yes, I know", added Clarke quickly, "she is quite the advocate of the poor, unfortunate souls. Mother always had a weakness for charity, and I admire that about her, but I only wanted her to understand me better. To dedicate to me the same attention she does to every patient she has."

This time the brunette reached for Clarke's hand without holding back and touched the girl lightly, trying to console her. It was unusual for her former mistress to be so honest about her feelings, so this situation with her mother must be something really upsetting for her.

"She cares deeply about you, Clarke. She asked me to come here and help you because you were sick, because you didn't need just a maid, but someone to talk to. Maybe even a friend."

"That is lovely", husked the blonde, her voice going up with anger, "except for the fact that I am not sick." She took her hand back abruptly, looking away from her companion. "I have never been."

This information caught Lexa by surprise. She never really saw any doctors visiting Clarke or any visible signs of sickness, but since the girl was so recluse she thought it could be a mental disease. Nonetheless, it was really odd that she didn't require any medical assistance of any kind, and now it was starting to make sense: that's because she didn't need any.

"Then why has she sent you here?"

"Because I was unhappy", explained Clarke, turning her head to face Lexa once again. "For weeks I didn't eat, sleet, or leave the house. It was general consensus between the doctors that I needed a timeout in the countryside, since they all believed I had something called the 'big city depression'."

"And was that it?"

"No". Clarke hesitated for a moment. "I was simply living the pain of losing someone I loved deeply. In fact, I still am."

That was it, then. Suddenly, all those months of mood swings, lonely afternoons and mysterious habits made sense to Lexa, because she had been through the same pain, and she knew exactly what it felt like. That made her opinion of Clarke a little better - maybe she wasn't a spoiled little rich girl, but a woman in secret pain because she obviously had lost someone she wasn't even supposed to have in the first place, otherwise she would've told her mother and the other doctors about it.

"I came here because I thought it would help me to forget about it, but at first it only made it worse. It was also very lonely, since my only friends around here are the Blakes and the servants at the big house treat my like I'm untouchable. That's what was so different about you. You actually talked to me like if I was a person."

"Which was a mistake", laughed Lexa, "because no maid would ever do that. That's what gave my cover away."

"Nonetheless, you did good. The thing is I have been feeling in need of a friend, and I'm willing to pretend nothing happened that night if it means I can have you back as my maid."

Lexa stared at her with her eyes wide open. "You want me to come back?"

"Yes, I do."

"To be your maid again?"

"Well, I don't see what else you could do at the estate besides that." Clarke shifted on her seat, a little uncomfortable by Lexa's reaction. Deep down, she was expecting the girl to accept the offer at once, and she wouldn't have to convince her to come back. "Plus, isn't this the plan to keep you away from the police?"

"With all due respect, milady…" Lexa measured her words while playing with her glass of brandy. "I have gotten used to this place. Mr. and Mrs. Ehlathini treat me really well and I have a nice job at the book shop. Plus, here I get to be who I am, and not pretend I enjoy the etiquette and the rituals of the aristocratic life."

Clarke nodded slowly. "I see."

She was doing her best to hide the hurt, and soon it was too much. She got up suddenly, getting ready to leave, fumbling with her gloves and purse.

"Clarke, wait -"

"I think this conversation is over, Miss Woods", announced Clarke in a cold tone. "My mother wanted me to offer you the job back for your own safety. I don't know why in Heaven's name she is so concerned about you, but nonetheless I did my part. Have a nice evening."

Lexa didn't get another chance to speak before Clarke's car was already racing down the road, heading back to the estate.


	6. Chapter 6

"Aren't you going to talk about it?" Indra asked after walking side by side with Lexa for a few minutes, heading to their Saturday evening meetings. It was already cold enough to keep the villagers inside their houses at sundown, so the streets were completely deserted. Good thing that both of them were wearing men's suits, either to stay warmer or to not draw attention to themselves.

"I thought you'd never ask", commented Lexa with sarcasm. She honestly hoped that Indra would drop the subject after the younger woman didn't mention anything about last night's visit, but now that they were alone it seemed almost impossible to not talk about it.

"This is a serious business, Lexa". Indra stopped walking and soon Lexa did the same. The older woman was facing her with a very grave expression. "I don't like that girl."

"Of course you don't. She's a lady of the high society, the daughter of a Count."

"It's not just that and you know it." She got closer to Lexa, lowering her tone until it was almost a whisper. "I know what it's like to be nineteen and attracted to someone. You think the whole world is going to stop just so you can live a love story?"

"If you must know, Indra, I'll tell you what happened yesterday." Lexa sighed, clearly annoyed by that unrequired lecture. "She asked me to be her maid again and I said no. Is that enough for you?"

That revelation took Indra by surprise. She wasn't expecting the girl to actually give her a direct answer.

"So I'll be staying with you for a little longer, if that's okay. And there is no love story."

"Very well", concluded Indra as they resumed their walk to the bookstore.

The movement had grown considerably since their first meeting a few months ago. Now they had at least thirty people involved, all accepted in the local WSPU after a voting done by the original members. It was also getting harder to hide those meetings with so many people involved, but they managed to work around a schedule of arrivals to not draw so much attention.

Lexa and Indra were the last ones to enter the crowded bookshop. They silently took seats by Kane's side and Indra proceeded to start tonight's discussions, since she was their leader. With so many people involved, it was getting harder to reach an agreement between all the peers, and the discussions usually took place until the later hours of night.

"A protest! In Burnley!", exclaimed Mr. Rodgers, the baker, when Indra was done with her action proposition. "Can you imagine that?"

"It's nonsense", commented some other villager.

"It's the right thing to do", defended Indra, raising her voice. "That's the best way of showing our support to our sisters in London. A lot of cities around the country have been doing it. Even in the United States they are showing some sympathy for the cause."

"Things are different here in Burnley, Miss Ehlathini", explained Kane, patiently. "Our police has almost no tolerance for riots-"

"I know our police well, thank you very much", interrupted Indra. "I've had several encounters with them back in my day. But I am not afraid, and none of us should be. It's not illegal to ask for what's right."

"Her ladyship will never accept this", said a chubby balding man. "She could evict us from our houses and close our businesses. She owns us!"

"She won't do this." Lexa stood up, speaking in this discussion for the first time. "I know Lady Abby Griffin. She isn't the kind of woman who would do such a thing."

"You're just a sellout to the high borns, Lexa." The man approached her, threatening. "Do you miss braiding Lady Clarke's hair all day long?"

"Shut up!" Lexa launched herself on the man, but before she could land a good punch on his fat face, her arms were restrained by Indra.

"Cut it out, you two", she said firmly, holding Lexa's hands behind her back. "We should stay together in order to win. If we break apart, this cause doesn't stand a chance."

"It's not my fault if he-"

"Shhh!" Indra put her hand over Lexa's mouth, suddenly looking at the door with suspicion. She studied the room with narrowed eyes. The discussion that took place between the villagers after Lexa's fight started to fade away slowly, giving place to an uneasy murmur.

"What is it?", asked the bald man.

"I think I heard something outside."

The room felt completely silent. No one even dared to breath.

With a loud bang, the door was open, and before anyone could realise what was happening, a large group of policemen came inside, batons in hand, ready to strike.

One of the officers came forward and made his announcement.

"In the name of His Royal Majesty the King, you're all under arrest for conspiring against the government, planning terrorist activities and subversive actions."

Almost no one heard this words because before the officer was done, a few guards moved forward towards the group and the fight begun. In no time, they were all entangled; some of the restrained villagers were tied up and thrown out of the bookshop to be put inside a police carriage. Books were flying everywhere, landing between the punches and kicks, and an entire shelf was brought to the floor when one of the farmers tried to knock down three guards at once.

"Lexa!", shouted Indra, "run! Now!"

But Lexa was too busy pushing one of the guards away from the bald guy who had previously attacked her, smashing his face into the ground. Previous differences didn't matter now, they were all fighting for the same cause: their freedom.

"Lexa, listen to me", said Indra as she pulled the girl by her arm, "you have to go! You can't let the police get you."

"I have left my comrades before", answered the girl with determination, "I am not leaving them again. If they get arrested tonight, I'm going with them."

"Don't be silly; what good will this bring any of us?"

"Just let me go", and she pulled away from the older woman, turning around to face another guard.

This man was twice her size, but Lexa wasn't afraid of him. In fact, she kind of missed the thrill of a good fight. He barely had time to acknowledge what was happening when the girl landed a kick between his legs, bringing him down without further effort. Indra watched the whole thing with a stoic expression, even though deep down she was proud of her friend.

Lexa turned her back to the man on the floor, sensing that he was done. She was about to help another villager get rid of a guard when something made her trip and fall - her ankle was restrained by a pair of strong hands. The man was still willing to fight, dragging Lexa closer to him and easily topping her, making it hard for her to breath beneath his weight. She tried to react anyway, engaging in a combat that resulted in a broken rib for the girl and several lost teeth for the man.

He landed a sequence of punches on Lexa's face until she was almost unconscious, then picked her up and proceeded to take her to the police carriage. It was already full of injured villagers, but most of them were still inside the bookshop, fighting off the remaining guards. Some of the policemen were already down, lying on the bookshop's floor, and there were still at least ten of them creating trouble inside the building.

Lexa barely registered what was going on in front of her, though she didn't missed Indra's silent tackle that brought down the guard who was putting the villagers inside the carriage. She approached Lexa with a finger in front of her lips, asking for silence, and patted the girl's hand reassuringly. She then returned to the bookshop and closed the door behind her, secluding the noise inside the small building.

When Indra came out again, the last guard was on the floor next to his peers. The fight was over.

"How many of you can walk?", asked Indra to those who were still awaken inside the bookshop, and a few raised their hands.

"Good", she continued, "then go back home and bring your carriages here."

"Why?" Kane walked to the woman with difficulty, limping on his left leg while blood ran freely from a cut on his forehead. "Where are we going?"

"To a place where they cannot find us."

* * *

"It's a calamity, milady", announced Mrs. Langer in panic, "it's a revolution! The Russians are here!"

"Calm down, Gertha", said the blonde, rubbing her eyes. Seconds ago she was in deep sleep, before her housekeeper bursted inside the room blurting this crazy nonsense. "What is happening?"

"There's a convoy of carriages parked in front of the servant's entrance". The woman was shaking like she had just seen a ghost. "Leaded by that woman, the trouble maker. She says that she wants to see you, milady."

"Which woman, Gertha?"

"Mrs. Ehlathini. And of course Miss Woods, another bad apple, who is also-"

"Lexa is here? Is she okay?" Clarke jumped out of bed and picked up her robe, tying it around her body in a fast motion. "Lead me to them."

"But milady, it's a group of villagers, farmers and sailsmen, and it's the middle of the night… I think it's hardly appropriate for a Lady to-"

"I don't care what's appropriate or not", announced Clarke firmly, "and if you won't come with me, I'm going by myself."

The lady picked up a candlestick and marched out of her bedroom, leaving a very shocked Mrs. Langer behind.

"Oh Lords..."

The housekeeper just sighed and followed her mistress in a hurry, missing the good old days when the young ones spent their vacations attending balls instead of befriending agitators and destroying traditions.

* * *

Clarke couldn't believe her eyes when she finally reached the servant's door and launched herself into the cold night, ignoring the shivers that went through her body. Two of the carriages were small and humble, probably belonging to the local farmers, but one of them was bigger and had the local police's crest stamped on its side. This wasn't good.

The three vehicles were full of people, probably having carried them there over full capacity. The riders didn't seem to mind: they were all injured. Some more than others, but blood could be seen everywhere, and inside the police's carriage people could barely move. That's where Clarke's eyes, eager to find Lexa, finally landed.

"Lexa!" The blonde approached her former maid in a hurry, fancy slippers sinking into the mud. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine", answered the brunette in a weak tone, "just a little sore. We had a long night."

"Lexa..." Clarke brought up her hand to caress Lexa's face, careful to not touch the bruises that were forming around one of her eyes.

"I'm sorry for coming at this hour without an invitation, Lady Griffin", started Indra. Clarke immediately retreated her hand and turned to the older woman. "But as you can see, this is an emergency."

"It doesn't matter, Miss Ehlathini", answered Clarke, facing the other injured villagers around them. "Whatever happened, it doesn't matter. Let's bring everyone inside."

Clarke told Mrs. Langer to wake up all the servants and help getting the "guests" a place to lay down. Thanks to the absurd size of the house, it wasn't hard to find beds for the thirty people that arrived, even if some of them had to share a few or lay on couches. In a matter of half an hour, everyone had a place to sleep.

A meal was cooked in a hurry with everything they had stored in the house and Clarke ordered the kitchen staff to get more groceries in the morning, as soon as the village market started operating. When she was done checking all the rooms to see if everyone had eaten and needed anything else, she finally reached her own bedroom, where Lexa was lying on her bed. Indra was sitting by her side, looking very stern.

"You should get some rest, Indra", said Clarke in a whisper, afraid that she might wake Lexa up. "You can stay in my mother's quarters if you like. They are in the end of the hallway."

Indra stared at her in silence, as if she was trying to figure out something about the girl. It was really hard to say what was going on inside the older woman's head right now. Of course she disliked Clarke, but she was really thankful for the way she had welcomed the villagers without asking for an explanation.

Before she could reply to the offer, a moan came from the bed and Lexa was awake again, her face showing a lot of pain.

"Lexa", started Clarke as she approached the girl, "Lexa, what's going on?"

The brunette moaned a little louder this time, grabbing her belly with a bruised hand.

"She needs a doctor", said Clarke, this time facing Indra.

"She can't have one", answered the woman, "none of us can. We are being chased by the police."

"Clarke", whispered Lexa, almost inaudibly, "help me..."

"How?" The blonde sat by Lexa's side, getting closer to the girl.

"Your grandfather and your mother are doctors", continued Lexa, "maybe you picked up on something?"

Clarke hesitated for a while, playing inside her head the moments that she'd seen her mother tending patients on her clandestine operation room inside their house. She used to love watching her mother work and was keen on learning everything about the job, but after losing someone she loved deeply there was no room for anything but sorrow in her life. More than an year had passed since the last time she had been inside her mother's makeshift hospital room.

Lexa's hand squeezing hers brought Clarke back from her daydream. "You can do it."

"I can't. I was never interested in helping Mama..."

"Doesn't matter. I know you can."

Clarke reached Lexa's abdomen and pressed it lightly, getting an immediate groan in response. She then proceeded to undo Lexa's vest and shirt, stopping before opening them. "Is this okay?"

Lexa nodded and tried to smile, but the pain was too intense. Clarke proceeded to undress Lexa's upper body, leaving the girl in only her thin blouse, which the blonde pushed up to reveal an uglily bruised belly. Just one quick examination was enough for a diagnosis.

"It's a broken rib", stated Clarke to both Lexa and Indra. "Luckily, it's the only thing broken and it's not a terrible injure."

"Though it hurts like hell", added Lexa, trying to keep her humor to not show how much pain she was in.

"I can put it back in place, but it's going to hurt. A lot."

"I can take it."

"A lot, Lexa."

"Clarke", said the brunette, reaching for Clarke's hand and squeezing it. "Just do it."

Clarke let out a sigh and positioned herself above Lexa's lean body, getting ready to do something she had only seen her mother perform a couple of times. Well, she could see the bone, so it shouldn't be that hard…

"One, two, three!"

With a loud cracking sound, the bone was back together, and Lexa's grunt was surprisingly low considering the amount of pain she must be in. That is a tough woman, Clarke thought.

"See?" Lexa flashed a beautiful smile at Clarke, who couldn't help smiling back. "I told you that you could do it. Now you only have twenty-nine of us left to tend."

Clarke chuckled, but she knew Lexa was right. They couldn't get a doctor without putting everyone in danger, so the closest they had to a caretaker was herself. She had to toughen up and get creative now.

"You should get some sleep", she finally said, and then looked at Indra, "both of you. I'll be out with the others."

When Clarke was out of the room, Lexa couldn't help giving Indra a knowing smirk. There was no way the woman didn't like Clarke right now, at least a little bit.

"Don't get smug with me, Lexa", said the woman as she sat on the edge of the bed again, fishing a metallic canteen from inside her pocket. "Just drink and go to sleep."

Lexa took a sip of the brandy and coughed, which made everything hurt even more, but soon the alcohol and the tiredness brought by tonight's events were enough to make her drift into a heavy sleep.

* * *

It wasn't easy for Clarke to take care of so many people at once but, by the time the sun was rising, she had managed to tend the worse injuries, keeping the badly hurt from getting worse. This was far from ideal - without a doctor, some of them could actually die if they had an internal bleeding. For now, all they could do was rest and hope for the better.

Mrs. Langer was clearly not happy about turning the majestic Burnley estate into a hospital for terrorists, as she would call the visitors. The news about last night's events were already travelling fast around the village and reached the house before breakfast, just when Clarke had finished cleaning up and came out of her bedroom to eat in the dining room.

"Milady, this is a scandal", started Mrs. Langer as soon as Clarke sat down. "There hasn't been any other subject of conversation in the village today. Everyone knows that these people engaged in a confrontation with the police, and now all of them are wanted criminals!"

"I wonder who is after them", replied Clarke, buttering a loaf of bread. "Our guests seem to have given the guards a hard time yesterday. I don't think there's a single one of them fit enough to be on their feet, let alone to chase people around."

"With all due respect, milady, I think this is hardly the situation for jokes." As Clarke put down the bread to glare at her housekeeper, Mrs. Langer moved forward. "It's only a matter of time before the police finds them here."

"They won't", stated Clarke, firmly. "There's a reason why they've come here: it's the only place where they can be safe. The guards can rummage through every single house in the village, except for this one, because here in Burnley I am the authority."

"But, milady, I-"

"This discussion is over, Gertha", said Clarke while getting up, "and I won't hear anything else about it. These people will be treated the same way we've always treated our guests, and no word about them will be spilled to the village. Understood?"

"Yes, milady." Mrs. Langer was far from happy with this discussion, but she had no choice except accepting Clarke's orders. It was the first time she'd seen the girl being so strong, so decided. She didn't look so much like a child now, and quite frankly she reminded Gertha of Abby Griffin.

* * *

Lexa opened her eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light coming from the window. Judging by the position of the sun, it looked like way past noon. When she moved towards the bedside table to get a glass of water, the pain around her abdomen made her let out a loud growl.

"Hey, you're awake."

The familiar voice came from the opposite side of the room, where Clarke was perched on top of a divan sofa while reading an old medical book. She seemed to have dug up her grandfather's collection from the library, because several similar looking books were crammed around the floor.

"I wish I wasn't", whined Lexa as she felt another jolt of pain on her broken rib.

"That's why I didn't ask how you felt. I think the answer would be obvious." Clarke opened a small smile and crossed the room to get to Lexa's bedside. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Just some water, please."

The blonde reached for the glass on the bedside table and helped Lexa drinking from it. The girl flinched from the pain a few times until she finally managed to gulp down the liquid.

"How long until I can move again?"

"Six weeks, at least."

"Six weeks?" Lexa's eyes went wide at the information. "I can't stay in bed that long; it's going to be a huge burden for Mr. and Mrs. Ehlathini."

"That's why you'll stay here until you're back on your feet."

"Lady Griffin", started Lexa, suddenly very grave and formal, "I can't possibly agree with this. It's too much."

"It's fine, Lexa. Plus, an extra set of eyes would be helpful, since I have a dozen patients with injuries I've never even heard of and at least ten medical dictionaries to go through in order to help them."

Lexa smiled softly and nodded, careful to not move too much. She was starting to get used to the pain.

"Also, you're not my maid anymore", continued the blonde, "so you can just call me Clarke."

"I thought I was already doing it."

"That's because you're a rebel. Now you're actually allowed to do it."

They shared a comfortable laugh together, and Lexa couldn't stop imagining what would it be like to wake up the sound of Clarke's laughter every single day.

"Well, Clarke", she started once they were quiet again, "I would like to thank you. Not only for what you did for me, but for all of us. I know that what you're doing can cause you a lot of trouble."

"Nothing that I cannot handle."

Clarke looked so determined, so sure of herself, that Lexa couldn't help wondering why didn't she see this before. Clarke had been hiding this courageous side of her all this time, trying to make everyone around her believe that she was an obnoxious poor little rich girl, when actually she had more of her mother in her than anyone would've thought.

"I was wrong about you", said Lexa after staring at her companion for a few seconds. "When I first came here I thought you were just a shallow lady from high society who only cared about her own good. I'm glad I was wrong."

"And I was absolutely right about you", replied Clarke with a smile. "But I'm happy I changed my opinion about it. And I am sorry for the harsh things I've said before."

They stared at each other for a brief moment until it was too intimate, too intense. Clarke suddenly rose from the bed and Lexa turned her gaze away.

"So", started the brunette, clearing her throat, "where are all those books you were talking about?"


	7. Chapter 7

The promised six weeks required for Lexa's recovery folded into two months, but the girl wasn't really complaining about it. She was feeling better each day with the pain drifting away as her broken rib related; plus, she got to spend a lot of time with Clarke. And the bonus was that she wasn't being judged by Indra anymore, even though the older woman clearly still didn't approve their relationship, for whatever it was right now.

The girls spent most time in Clarke's bedroom - that was turned into Lexa's bedroom during her recovery - reading grandpa's old medicine books and coming up with diagnoses for the other patient's problems. One by one, the guests were healed and were ready to leave the estate, but Clarke insisted for them to stay until it was safe again to resume their lives in the village.

Turns out that a militia was formed to go after the group; however, after two weeks of search, the guards ran out of places to look for the agitators. It was a really strange affair for them, as well as for the other villagers, to see thirty people vanish overnight.

On a particularly cold morning, a captain of the local militia came to the estate to talk to Clarke and the servants to check if they'd seen anything. All the guests were well hidden in the many bedrooms of the house, so no one was seen, and the captain left with no new information. The last place the authorities would look for the group would be the estate, as Indra had correctly guessed.

After a whole month with no results, the militia was dissolved, and most of the local guards were required elsewhere. The agitation was rising not only in London, but in several other cities, specially in Dublin, where riots took place in almost every month of 1913. The year of 1914 came with the same energy - things were about to change soon.

The relocation of the guards made it possible for the villagers to return to their houses and resume their jobs. Some went back right away, while others, who were injured badly, took a few more weeks to leave the estate. By the end of January, the last guest in Clarke's house was Lexa, even though she was already able to walk around and move without any aid.

Lexa and Clarke had a long conversation about her living arrangements. Clarke was resolute to not let Lexa return to the Ehlathini's house and invited her to stay in the estate as a guest, not an employee, since now they were friends. Lexa told her she couldn't possibly agree to this and would only stay if she could have a room at she servant's quarters. Clarke didn't accept this, and the whole thing was solved when the blonde finally got her victory and Lexa officially moved to a guest room on the first floor.

Her situation in the estate was complicated. She had no real reason to stay, since she was not a maid anymore. What she could do to make her feel less like a burden was trying keep things tidy, as well as helping the other maids to clean the several large rooms. Of course this had to be done under Mrs. Langer's radar, because the housekeeper was still eager to see Lexa leave and would never agree on accepting the girl's help.

One day, when she was checking if the rooms were cleaned, Lexa came across a locked door on the second floor. She was now quite used to the house's geography, but somehow she didn't remember what was behind those doors - in fact, she couldn't really recall a time when they've been open.

After the servants had dinner, Lexa went down to the kitchen to the usual card game that she played with Millicent and the two footmen. Mrs. Langer was already in her room, sleeping.

"Millicent, do you know what's on the second floor, at the end of the hallway, turning left from the stairs?" Lexa tried to ask the question as casually as possible.

"That's her ladyship's study", answered the maid, eyes locked on her cards.

"Have you ever been there?"

"I haven't. Are you holding the ace of clubs?"

"What?" She frowned and checked her cards, which were completely forgotten on her hand. "No, I'm not. Why haven't you been to the study?"

"Only Mrs. Langer has the keys to that room. Are you sure you're not holding the ace? Looks like something you would do."

"I'm not holding it, Millicent", replied Lexa with some irritation in her voice. "But who cleans it, then? Mrs. Langer wouldn't be able to do it by herself."

"Why do you care", said the maid while throwing a card on the table. "You don't even work here anymore."

Lexa just sighed and finished her brandy, throwing her entire deck on the table. "I'm feeling pretty tired today. See you guys in the morning."

Millicent suspiciously watched her leave, until her eyes rested on the discarded cards.

"There's my ace! I knew it."

* * *

Lexa waited until Sunday morning to execute her plan to go inside the study. She didn't know why she was trying to be so nice to Mrs. Langer, who clearly didn't deserved it, but she wanted to make a gesture and show the housekeeper that she was an ally and could help the staff.

When Mrs. Langer was off to church, Lexa sneaked into her quarters easily. She had some tricks from her early years living in the city, and those times she spent doing missions for WSPU. Locating the keys wasn't that hard either: they were on the large key bundle that was able to open every single door in the house.

The hard part was getting the right key. Lexa knew it was a big one because the study had a large double door, so she discarded the smaller ones right away. She spent the next five minutes trying all the other keys until she finally got the doors opened and sneaked inside quickly, before any of the maids could see her.

The study was a large corner room with huge windows, but they were completely covered up by heavy velvet curtains. The place didn't quite match the rest of the house, which was always so neat; the room looked abandoned and inhabited, even though Clarke spent most of her days there since they arrived in Burnley.

A luxurious couch was near the corner, a bookshelf next to it, and there was something near one of the windows that she couldn't really identify. The room was very dark; it didn't have electric light and its curtains wouldn't allow the sun inside. The brunette carefully crossed the distance to the windows and opened one of the curtains slowly, letting just enough light inside so she could take a better look.

And what she found was very breathtaking.

Dozens of paintings laid around the room, scattered around the place as if someone had been rearranging them recently. They weren't framed, but might as well be, because they were perfect. Lexa wasn't an art connoisseur, but she had studied enough and read books to know enough about the work of the great masters of painting, and these canvases weren't that far away from what was in the museums around the world. Some of them were better than the others, like if it was a progression, but overall it was a stunning collection. Lexa wondered why they weren't framed and hanged on the walls of the estate. Maybe this was a private collection of great value, and that's why Mrs. Langer didn't let anyone in. However, on the opposite corner near the easel, the paintings became a little different. Most of them were very grey and blue, and showed incomplete portraits of the beautiful green mountains of Burnley and its majestic gardens.

The painting that caught Lexa's attention at first was the one on the easel. She approached slowly, suddenly aware that she was invading Clarke's privacy, but now it was too late - she couldn't look back. The unsure strokes of coal formed the outline of a face, maybe a man's face, but the girl really couldn't tell. It was just a rough draft. Looking through the other canvases, Lexa noticed that this same motif had been done in other paintings, always incomplete, and always just a sketch.

"What are you doing here?"

Lexa turned around quickly and met very angry blue eyes glaring at her from the opened door. It had been a while since she'd last seen that look on Clarke Griffin. She couldn't say that she missed it.

"I asked you a question", reaffirmed Clarke, closing the door behind her. "You know that this room is off limits!"

"I know, and I am so very sorry", started Lexa, taking a step towards the blonde. "I knew that no one was cleaning this room and decided to do it myself. I just wanted to help."

Clarke looked away, clearly annoyed. "I took you back in this house as a guest, Lexa. I tended you; I even let you sleep in my own bed, for God's sake!"

"And I am forever grateful, Clarke-"

"Are you?" Clarke closed the distance between them fast, anger spilling from her words. "Is this how you repay what I did for you? By violating my privacy?"

"As I said, I am terribly sorry for going against your orders, but I am not sorry for what I've seen."

The blonde was taken aback by this answer, so she just stood there, quiet, waiting for an explanation.

"These are beautiful, Clarke", said Lexa, pointing around the room, "all of them. Why are you hiding this from the world?"

"It is certainly none of your business."

"I know you're grieving", continued the brunette. She boldly held Clarke's hands, and was relieved when her former mistress didn't took them away. "And I want to know why."

"You could've just asked instead of going through my stuff behind my back." Clarke's words were a little less sharp now, mixed with a hint of sadness. She was letting her walls down, very slowly, and Lexa didn't miss this opportunity.

"Would you've answered if I did?"

"No."

"You have been carrying a burden for so long, Clarke. Please, let me help you with it. Let me in."

The softness of Lexa's words were getting Clarke's eyes teary. Turns out the brunette was right: she was so tired of hiding, of lying, of being angry.

"It's not that easy, Lexa."

"I know it isn't. I never thought I would say this, but you and I are very much alike, as ironic as this sounds." Lexa let out a little chuckle, trying to break the tension. "You can trust me."

"I know." And that was enough for Clarke, because she broke down in tears right away, clinging on Lexa for dear life as she let her world fall apart.

Lexa held the lady in her arms and hugged her tightly, wishing there was something she could do to suppress Clarke's sadness. That girl was so strong, and at the same time so fragile, and the brunette just wished she could hold her like this forever, even though she also hoped that she never had to do it again. The scene was breaking her heart.

When tears gave place to little sobs, Clarke was finally ready to speak. She took a step away from Lexa and turned away, staring at the unfinished work on the easel.

"I always loved painting", she started with a husky voice. "Since I was very young. My father encouraged me and got me the best tutors he could find, but my mother thought this was a very frivolous hobby and an unuseful skill. She wanted me to learn how to be a doctor, like she is, even if that meant working clandestinely for the rest of my life."

"She only meant you well", said Lexa softly. "I'm sorry if she was harsh, Clarke, but Lady Griffin is an extraordinary woman. I wish we had more like her - and I wish she could perform the job in a real clinic, with the title she deserves."

"I know", answered the blonde, sweeping away the last of her tears from her face, "but I wish she was more flexible. I could've done both."

"I am sure you could. As you still can."

"After a while, I became really good at painting. I felt so happy doing it. My father was my biggest fan and supporter, so I just couldn't say no when he asked me to go with him to the fair and maybe do some sketches while I was there."

"But you hated the fair."

"You remember", smiled Clarke, turning to look at Lexa again.

"Of course." Lexa smiled back, urging the blonde to go on with her story.

"One day, while Papa was playing some game, I was sketching this group of women sitting underneath a tree when a boy approached me and sat by my side. He didn't say a thing; he just stared at my sketch until it was almost done. That's when I actually acknowledged his presence - and it gave me quite a scare."

They both laughed together, but Lexa sensed that this subject was very sensible to Clarke. It was probably the first time she was telling this story to anyone.

"His name was Finn. He was about the same age as me, very handsome, and very Irish. He was clearly not a high-born chap."

"I see."

"We started seeing each other in secret. It was really hard to get my mother off my back, but some maids and friends helped covering for me. My father didn't know what I was doing, but he kept telling Mama that I should have some fun while I still could, because soon I would be married. So we were together for six months, which were the best months of my life."

Clarke was staring at the partially blank canvas with a faint smile on her face, like if she was remembering something. Lexa was happy for her, but at the same time she couldn't help feeling a little jealous.

"And then what happened?", she asked, waking Clarke from her daydream.

"First, my father passed away. It was the flu. I was devastated, but Finn was by my side, and he made things a little better." Clarke let out a sad sigh and continued, "Then the Irish uprisings started in Ulster and Finn was inclined to join the battle. I begged him not to go, but he insisted this was an important matter and that he had to fight. I respected his beliefs, so I let him go, and he promised to return in less than an year. He also said he would come back to marry me, and if my parents resisted the idea, he would take me to Ireland and we would build a life there together."

Clarke stopped for a few seconds to get herself together. This was clearly the part when things got ugly.

"He was killed a few weeks later. There was a bombing on his division's headquarters."

Lexa stared blankly at Clarke, who was fighting back tears once again. Now things were starting to make sense in her head. That's why the blonde was so keen to stay away from political news, and that's why she was so mad when she found out that Lexa was a revolutionary, an agitator, someone who puts bombs inside houses for ideological causes. Just like the people who killed Finn.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke", she said while putting an arm around the blonde, pulling her close for a hug. "But at least he died fighting for what he believed. There is no greater honor."

"Lexa, you don't understand!" Clarke took a step back and freed herself from the other girl's arms.

"Of course I do! You don't think I've ever lost someone I loved?"

"It's not that." She pointed to the easel and the unfinished canvas on top of it. "I can't paint anymore. Ever since he died, I stopped seeing colors and scenes and moments. It's all just blue and grey. That's why my mother sent me here, to see if I got inspired somehow."

"Some things just take time-"

"You know what's the worse thing? The one I can't get through?" Clarke stared at Lexa, eyes glowing with anger and regret. "I never painted him. Not even in a sketch."

"I'm sure you can do it now."

"That's the thing, Lexa", announced Clarke, throwing herself on the dusty couch, looking completely defeated. "I can't paint him because I can't remember his face anymore."


	8. Chapter 8

Even though Clarke kept herself distant after her heart to heart with Lexa, she didn't completely avoided the former maid. She clearly trusted Lexa, and now that she was carrying her secret their bound had become somehow stronger. Lexa was also glad to get to know Clarke better, and she spent most nights thinking about ways to cheer up the blonde and help her to go back into painting.

When an idea finally hit her, that's all she could talk about the next morning, when she and Clarke were finally alone after the maids and Mrs. Langer took away her finished breakfast.

"It's just a quick stroll, come on", insisted Lexa as Clarke declined her invitation to take a walk on the gardens for the third time.

"It's freezing outside!"

"Not anymore. It's no longer snowing, and the trees are growing their leaves back. You've been locked inside this house for too long, Clarke."

"I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work."

Clarke rebuffed Lexa in a light and playful way, but her last denial was firm. Lexa just sighed and walked after her friend when she started to leave the dining room.

"I'm just trying to go for a walk with you."

"Lexa, I know you", started Clarke as she stopped and turned around, almost bumping into the brunette. "You want me to walk around the gardens to get inspired and paint. I've seen the gardens before and it didn't work. I can't paint anymore."

"You've never seen them with me", insisted the girl, giving a charming smile that made Clarke's heart flutter.

"Yes, I have", she answered in a hurry, taking a step back to create some distance between them. "We've been to the gardens when you used to be my maid."

"Back then I didn't know that you were an artist." And before Clarke could argue, Lexa continued, "please, just give me a chance. You don't have to paint or draw anything; we're just going for a walk."

Thirty minutes later, the girls were out in the open, strolling down the narrow stone pathway that led to the gardens. Mrs. Langer couldn't believe her eyes and stared at the duo from the servant's door, soon joined by Millicent and the other two footmen, all mesmerized by watching their mistress taking a walk in the morning for the first time since Lexa had left the estate months ago.

"We should sell tickets next time", commented Lexa in Clarke's ear as she saw the servants watching them. "Mrs. Langer looks like she's about to faint."

Clarke looked over her shoulder to watch the gang. As soon as she turned, the group dismantled and each one of the servants pretended to be doing some chore. She giggled lightly, feeling like a teenage girl for the first time in quite a while.

"It's nice seeing you smile like that", said Lexa, unable to take her eyes away from the blonde.

Clarke blushed a little, but quickly tried to cover it up by walking faster and leaving her former maid behind.

They carried a light conversation for the past couple of hours, walking down the small trail that went through the never ending gardens of the estate. It was a very peaceful place where no sound could be heard besides their footsteps and the occasional whistle of a bird. They settled down beneath a large tree to eat lunch after Lexa put together a nice picnic, nothing too fancy, but very tasteful and beautiful. Clarke felt rested, and for a moment it was like she hadn't a single worry inside her head.

"How do you like it?", asked Lexa after finishing the last bite of her sandwich.

"It's amazing. I could sit here forever."

The blonde laid against the trunk with her eyes closed, enjoying the soft sunlight that was bathing her face. Lexa couldn't do anything besides staring at her, for this scene was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

"I wish I could paint", she said out of the blue, making Clarke open one eye to look at her.

"Don't you have enough talents already, Miss Woods?"

"Like what? Branding hair and settling picnics?"

"I was thinking more about rioting."

Lexa chuckled and Clarke closed her eyes again, her face showing complete bliss.

"Seriously, though", continued the brunette. "I really wish I could paint."

"And what would you paint?"

"You."

Clarke opened her eyes at once, somehow startled by the blunt declaration. Lexa blushed a little, wishing that she could take it back.

She cleared her throat and continued, embarrassed, "and the trees, the mountains, the sun. This whole scenario is really gorgeous."

Clarke wasn't entirely sold on this excuse, but she decided it was better to let it go. She looked around to acknowledge the landscape that Lexa was pointing out and actually felt inspired to put it on paper, not just because of what it looked like, but because of what this moment felt like. It was almost if, by painting this scene, she would be able to live it forever.

"You're absolutely right", said the blonde, still staring at the mountains. "You may not be able to paint, but I am."

Lexa turned to the girl, very surprised. Clarke looked at her with confidence stamped all over her face. The message was loud and clear: I am ready. The brunette fumbled with the picnic basket and picked up a piece of drawing paper and some charcoal and gave them to Clarke.

"Unfortunately I couldn't bring a canvas and the paints without you noticing, but tomorrow I'll be more prepared."

Clarke smiled and nodded, already lost inside her imagination. In no time, she was fiercely drawing on the paper, knowing that Lexa's eyes never left her figure while she did so.

* * *

The days went by and Lexa kept her promise: now she took a canvas and some paints almost everywhere they went. At first they only did the gardens, as Clarke asked for baby steps, but after almost two weeks Clarke had produced several nature paintings and was eager to change her subject for a while.

Their next destination, of course, was the village. The place was full of scenes for Clarke to paint, even though she was feeling a little shy to work in front of all the people. However, after what she did for the police refugees a while ago, most of them welcomed her with kind smiles and fresh fruit from the local market.

"What about that?" Lexa pointed at the five year old daughter of the butcher running around the street in front of her father's store, playing by herself with a paper airplane.

"That's good, but she won't stay still."

"She doesn't have to", continued Lexa, pulling Clarke closer to the scene by her hand. "Just use your imagination and your memory. Don't use it as a model, use it as inspiration. When we get back to the estate you can recreate any of the scenes you see here."

"I don't know if I can..."

"Of course you can. Let's keep looking."

They walked down the road and found themselves in the middle of the market, where the local farmers were selling their latest crops. Clarke's senses were filled with colors, smells and tastes, and the niceness of this good, simple people was overwhelming her. How haven't she seen all this before? This whole walk felt like a rebirth, and now she was finally starting to notice how pretty her home was, if she could call Burnley a home.

Later that day they went to Indra's house for lunch. Mrs. Ehlathini kindly cooked them a nice meal with the ingredients she had on her hand; it wasn't as fancy as the banquets at Clarke's house, but her homemade cooking was simply delicious.

"I hope you don't mind the simplicity of this luncheon, milady", started Mrs. Ehlathini as she finished putting the plates on the table, "this is all very different from what you're used to."

"This looks better than most of the banquets I've been to, Mrs. Ehlathini", said Clarke with a gracious smile, "and you can call me Clarke."

Indra joined them right after this exchange, looking as stoic as ever. However, Lexa knew that the woman was changing her mind about Clarke after everything that had happened, even though she probably still didn't approve their relationship.

"It's nice to see you, Indra", said Clarke as the older woman sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"Good as new", answered Indra, "but I was barely hurt. The poor souls who got beaten up are now back on her feet, thanks to you."

Indra barely looked up from her plate when she said that, and Lexa thought it was the nicest thing that ever came out of her friend's mouth. Clarke turned to Lexa and gave her an excited smile, to which Lexa responded with a reassuring nod.

The small excursion ended with a visit to the bookshop, where Mr. Kane insisted to not accept any money from the girls when they tried to buy a few books. They returned to the estate with a bag full of Mrs. Ehlathini's fresh baked bread, huge apples from the local farmers and a nice piece of ham. None of this compared, of course, to Clarke's greatest gift from that trip: inspiration.

* * *

Clarke painted for the next few days without breaks. She obviously stopped late at night to sleep, a task that she had been doing easily since she and Lexa starting doing those walks, but as soon as she was up and fed, she was back at the study. Now the place wasn't forbidden anymore, so Clarke allowed the maids to clean it as long as they didn't move anything, and Lexa spent most of her afternoons lying on the couch and watching Clarke paint as they talked about all kinds of things.

"How did this suffragette movement worked?", asked Clarke one evening after dinner, eyes locked on the canvas in front of her as her fingers worked on firm strokes. "Did you guys have some kind of internal organization?"

"First of all, it's still working", corrected Lexa, putting down the book that she had been reading while lying on the large couch, "and it's getting stronger each day. You should join us."

"Ha, ha, very funny", mocked Clarke, still not turning to look at her companion.

"I mean it. Our cause is very important, Clarke. If you're a woman, you're one of us. Even some men are joining WSPU."

"You know how I feel about riots", said Clarke, this time putting down the brush. "And bombs."

Lexa put her book aside and stood up, crossing the room to get to Clarke. She put a hand on the blonde's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"I know. And I respect your reasons, but you don't have to participate in the riots if you don't want to. There are other ways to help."

"Tell me more about it."

And then they entered the wee hours of the night as Lexa narrated to Clarke the entire story of the WSPU, since when it was formed until the last protests. She also told her some episodes in which she had been involved, finishing it off with the bombing of Lloyd George's house.

"I can't believe you actually tried to bomb the prime minister's house", said Clarke, with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"I didn't try, Clarke", answered Lexa, very confident, "I succeeded."

"Don't be so coy. It didn't win you the cause."

"No, but it brought attention to it."

"Why can't you just talk to them? Maybe if you show your argument, you can win. It's very strong."

"We've tried everything", explained Lexa, "but men don't listen to things that are not of their immediate interest. The only language men understand is war, so we learned how to speak it."

Clarke laughed a little bit, even though she understood the problem. "You clearly aren't very fond of men."

"That I surely am not", added Lexa with a chuckle, not sure if Clarke caught her innuendo.

Clarke felt silent for a moment, pondering what Lexa had just said. The brunette just waited for her to resume her questioning.

"Have you ever been with a man?"

Even under the dim candle light, Lexa could see the blush taking over Clarke's cheeks and neck.

"I have not."

Clarke nodded and hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "What about a woman?"

Lexa had seen this one coming. It took a while, considering the amount of time that they had spent together, but sooner or later she knew that this subject would come up. She didn't knew why she was feeling so shy to talk about her sexual orientation; she wasn't showing it around, but had never hidden it upon questioning. That scene with Clarke back at her quarters several months ago, when she tried to kissed the blonde and got reject, was still very alive inside her brain.

"Yes", she finally answered, and looked up to meet Clarke's eyes.

She wasn't expecting them to be so intense. The blonde was very serious and didn't look away Lexa gazed at her, creating a charged energy exchange between when, much like the night of their first kiss.

Not sure if she could control herself much longer, Lexa took several steps back and returned to the couch, throwing herself in it. Clarke didn't say anything, but didn't move either.

"Her name was Costia", started Lexa, "and I loved her very much."

"Did she love you back?"

"Yes", answered Lexa with a smile. "We were very happy for a while, but then she was gone. It was the Spanish flu, the same one that took away your father."

Clarke nodded and remained silent, trying to encourage Lexa to speak. The brunette was always so silent, and most of the times she only spoke to get things out of Clarke. She barely never talked about herself.

"I don't regret it, though", continued Lexa with conviction. "The pain of losing her almost made me go crazy, but the joy of being with her was worth it, even if just for a few months."

Clarke and Lexa locked eyes through opposite sides of the room in a mutual understanding before the brunette excused herself and left for the night.

* * *

"Come, I have something to show you!"

Clarke dragged Lexa across the hallway until they reached the study. It had been one month since the blonde started painting again and the room was already completely changed: the large windows were never covered, allowing the girls to see the magnificent view of the estate's gardens; the canvases that were scattered around the floors were now organized in sections according to Clarke's judgement, and some of them had even been framed and hung proudly on the walls.

The thing Lexa noticed at first when she entered the room that Saturday afternoon was the exuberance of the paintings in front of her. Clarke had arranged some sort of exhibition, showing all the work she did based on the scenes she saw at the village. The work was breathtaking. Lexa could recognize some friendly faces on the workers and farmers, but some of them came right out of Clarke's subconscious mind when she created those scenes back at the estate. Everything was very colorful and painted with strong, firm strokes, sometimes even a little abstract, inspired by the Impressionist movement. The best thing about those paintings was the simplicity pictured in each scene, almost like if Clarke understood exactly what was like to live a working class life, which couldn't be farther away from the truth.

"These are so, so beautiful", whispered Lexa, mesmerized by the work. She had seen many of those paintings come to life, but it was the first time she was seeing them all together. The impact was undeniable.

"You really think so?"

"You have to show this to them", declared Lexa, turning away from the paintings to look at Clarke. "And to the world."

"Lexa!" Clarke blushed and turned away, avoiding the intense gaze. "I couldn't possibly. I'm no artist."

"Yes, you are." Lexa smiled and took a step closer to Clarke, trying to reassure her. "Look, you don't have to show this to everyone if you don't want to, but at least consider showing them to the villagers. I'm sure they will love the way you painted them."

Clarke nodded. "I'll think about it."

* * *

Later that same day, Clarke resumed her painting, but Lexa couldn't stop staring at her small exhibition. There was just something about those portraits that she couldn't quite figure out… Something familiar. She had been looking over and over for the past three or four hours, and Clarke had made fun of her for half of this time, saying that she would give her an autograph and a picture if she liked her work so much.

"I think I'm done for today", said Clarke as she let out a big yawn, stretching on top of her stool. "Aren't you tired? You've been looking at those paintings since dinner."

"Yeah, just a minute", replied Lexa, eyes narrowed while she studied a piece where two groups of teenage boys played tug of war in the middle of the fair.

"Come on, you can drool over them tomorrow. They're not going anywhere", insisted Clarke in a playful tone, grabbing Lexa's hand and pulling her towards the door.

"Wait!" The brunette stopped and picked up a painting on the corner, bringing it near the one with the tug of war. She started comparing them both, clearly searching for something. After a few seconds, she let out a laugh.

"That's it!" She laughed again, this time picking up another pair of paintings and comparing them both.

"What is it?" Clarke watched the whole thing with a curious expression, as if Lexa had been drinking too much brandy after dinner.

"You did it, Clarke", she finally answered, putting down the paintings.

Before the blonde could ask more questions, Lexa held her hand and lead her to the tug of war painting, pointing to one of the teenage boys in the back.

"Do you see him?"

"Yes."

"What about this lad?" Lexa pointed to another painting, this time of a regular day at the local market, where the farmers were selling their produces. "It's the same chap."

Clarke took a closer look and recognized one of the sellers. It was the same teenage boy from tug of war. Her heart squeezed when she realised who he was, and even before she looked at Lexa again, she knew that the brunette had discovered the very same thing even before she did.

"He's in every single one of your paintings, Clarke", continued Lexa, her voice charged with emotion and happiness. She pointed at the other scenes and he was there, over and over again. Sometimes as an older guy, sometimes as a child, but it was definitely the same person. He was the only constant in Clarke's paintings. This was not a coincidence.

"This is Finn, isn't it?", asked Lexa in the softest tone. Clarke was crying openly now, her eyes dancing between all those images of her former lover.

Lexa took a step closer to Clarke and rested her free hand on the blonde's face, turning her gaze to hers. "You haven't forgotten him, Clarke. I knew you haven't."

Clarke sobbed loudly, resting her hands on Lexa's waist. The brunette continued: "At first I thought I would never get over Costia, and then I was afraid to actually forget about her. But no matter what I did afterwards, no matter how many things have happened ever since, I have never forgotten her, and I never will. Finn will always live inside you."

Clarke buried her head in Lexa's shoulder and cried, cried, cried. Much like the first time they were together in this same study, but now Lexa sensed it was more of a closure. The girl was putting everything out, done with holding back, her worst fears exposed and now confronted one last time.


	9. Chapter 9

Warning: smut ahead.

* * *

February of 1914 came with it some nerve wrecking news. Europe was taken by the fear of an imminent war, this time involving all the richest countries, and it looked closer and closer. Lexa was worried because she didn't like wars - it was all about men trying to solve conflicts they had started in the first place - but it would also mean a lot of innocent young men dying for no cause at all. Also, it would take away the attention from WSPU, freezing the movement until war was over. No important decision about women's rights would be made during war times.

The Blakes came by in a sweet Spring night and Mrs. Langer prepared the usual banquet for a battalion. Even Lexa helped her out that day, now a little more friendly with the staff and even with the very Mrs. Langer, who didn't just kicked her out of the kitchen and asked if she had some building to explode, as usual. Clarke looked much happier now and was excited to see her friends; she even engaged with Octavia in a conversation about WSPU and her interest in joining the organization. Lexa didn't hear much of the talk, but she was glad that Clarke was having fun.

After dinner, Lexa was down at the kitchen with her usual book and glass of brandy when Millicent announced that Clarke was asking for her.

She was greeted by a very anxious Clarke. The girl was pacing around the room wearing only her nightgown and a robe, her hair now falling on her shoulder after the elegant hairdo had been brought down by Millicent earlier.

"What's wrong?", asked Lexa as soon as she closed the door.

"Bellamy says that the war is only a matter of when, and not if."

"That is true, Clarke", said the brunette heavily, "and I've told you this before."

"Aren't you worried?"

"Of course I am. But there's nothing we can do about it."

"Bellamy will have to fight", continued the blonde, exasperated, "he can barely hold his gun when we go hunting. I'm scared for him."

Lexa nodded in silence, feeling her heart clench at the confession. She wanted to not feel that jealous towards Clarke, but it was getting harder and harder each day they spent together.

"I'm sure he will be fine."

"Lexa", announced Clarke in a firm tone, "he asked to marry me."

Lexa's brow furrowed and she suddenly felt furious. How dare he? He's been to the estate two times in the last year and somehow felt the right to propose to Clarke? Her Clarke? But of course Clarke wasn't hers, as she would never be anyone's, and she was entitled to make up her own mind.

"Lexa, are you still there?" Apparently Clarke had been talking for the last few seconds, but Lexa was too immersed in her own conflictual thoughts to pay attention. She cleared her throat and raised her head, trying to look as distant as possible.

"Yes, of course. What did you tell him?"

"That I would think about it." Clarke let out a sigh and sat on her bed, suddenly looking tired. "But I don't have much time. If I say yes, he wants to do it before the war starts."

Lexa joined the girl and sat by her side on the bed, trying to look as unaffected and rational as possible. "I see."

"I really want to know what you think about this", insisted Clarke. "You know how much I value your opinion."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Lexa's face was very stoic, but her words bled ressentiment.

Clarke was taken aback by this attitude, but she kept pressing. "I want you to tell me what you think."

"Do you love him?"

"You know I don't", affirmed Clarke without a hint of doubt. "I've barely gotten over Finn. But weddings between lords and ladies are rarely about love."

"Well, then. If it's just a business transaction, you should think about the pros and cons", said Lexa, sounding very judgemental. "About marrying Bellamy."

"Fine". Clarke seemed a little annoyed. "Pro: he is a lord and my mother would be happy."

"That's a pro for your mother, not for you."

"Well, society in general would be happy. Everything would be easier and people would leave me alone."

"That sounds very sad."

"Now, he's not exactly old and ugly. I could do a lot worse."

Lexa shifted in her seat, a little uncomfortable. "You find him handsome?"

"I've seen a lot of girls marrying old creepy guys because their parents arranged the wedding. At least he's my age and a reasonable man."

"I think we have enough pros", added Lexa in a hurry, "so let's move to the cons."

Clarke hesitated a little. Lexa grew more and more impatient.

"You barely know him", the brunette finally said.

"We spent a lot of time together when we were kids."

"That's hardly knowing somebody."

"Fine. What else?"

"You would have to live in the country, either here or in Altham. I doubt lord Blake would move to London."

"That's true", said Clarke, lost in her thoughts. "What else?"

"He'll be off to the war soon. You'll be a very lonely young wife until he's back."

"That's why I would take you with me."

Clarke smiled brightly at the brunette, but Lexa couldn't retribute it. Not this time. She was so tired of pretending that this was just a friendship, so tired of playing the part of the former maid turned best friend, like in a fairy tale.

"What is it?", asked Clarke, worried. "Have you thought of another con?"

"Yes." Lexa took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I'm in love with you."

As soon as the words left Lexa's mouth she felt like laughing out loud, because it was so obvious. She had been in love with Clarke for a while now; maybe even since she was a maid and kissed the blonde for the first time, only to be rejected and thrown away from the house.

Clarke, on the other hand, didn't seem to find the information that obvious. She was clearly having some kind of inner turmoil, still unable to say anything, and stared blankly at the brunette with her mouth hanging open.

"I know this is not the best moment to bring this up, but I'm not sorry", continued Lexa. "I just had to say it."

Clarke finally closed her mouth and gave a small nod, but didn't say a thing. Lexa could feel the room getting cold around her, like if she wasn't wanted there any longer. She stood up at once and gave the blonde one final look before living.

"Good night, Clarke."

"Good night, Lexa."

* * *

Lexa didn't show up in the study the next morning, like she usually did, but Clarke didn't have to think hard to know why the girl was keeping her distance. Clarke's words were a little inconsiderate after the things Lexa told her, which were so very true, and the blonde knew it.

She missed Lexa's company deeply, even though it was just for one day, so when dinner came and went and she hadn't seen her, Clarke decided to go looking for her friend at the servant's dining room, where the brunette usually hanged out after dinner.

Turns out that she was there, playing some card game with Millicent and the footmen while the kitchen aids finished washing the plates. Clarke couldn't help noticing the way Lexa laughed when Millicent said something funny about the game, or the way their hands grazed longer than necessary when they passed cards to each other. This scene gave her chills; she wasn't ready for the feeling of possession that took her over. Maybe she was so used to having Lexa by her side all the time that sharing her with other people was not a good idea.

When she finally made her presence clear, the servants raised from their chairs at once, throwing the cards on the table. Lexa remained sat down in a clear act of defiance, never letting her eyes drift away from her deck.

"Milady", said Millicent with a small bow, "is there anything you need?"

"Thank you, Millicent." She looked down at Lexa, waiting for the girl to acknowledge her presence. "Actually, I'm here to speak to Miss Woods."

Millicent and the others shared a look before leaving the small dining room. They had noticed the strange friendship between Clarke and Lexa and no one could understand very well what it was about, so the servants liked to speculate about a lot of things. Probably none of them had gotten it right so far.

"I want to apologize for last night", started Clarke as soon as they were alone. "You were quite honest with me and I shut you down. You deserved an explanation."

Lexa finally looked up to meet Clarke's gaze, and the blonde immediately recognized the hurt in her eyes. Throwing the cards on the table, Lexa gathered her companion's discarded decks and started to shuffle them together, slowly.

"Do you wanna play?"

Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"It's just a card game, Clarke, not latin lessons. Are you in?"

Sensing that she owed this to Lexa, Clarke decided to just give in. Maybe that was the only way to get the girl's forgiveness after all. She sat down in the chair where Millicent was just moments ago and waited for Lexa to give her the cards.

"Are you seriously not going to talk about it, Lexa?"

"What do you want me to say?" Lexa stopped her task, still holding the cards in one of her hands. "I told you how I felt and you don't feel it back. It is what it is."

She averted her gaze from Clarke and focused once again on the cards, shuffling them together with care. Clarke let her eyes travel through Lexa's talented fingers for a few seconds before talking again.

"You're being unreasonable. That's not something a lady hears every day, especially from another woman."

"As I said, Clarke, it's okay." She put the cards on the table, one by one, separating the decks for both of them. "If you don't want me, there's nothing I can do about it."

Clarke hesitated for a moment, still studying Lexa's expression with curious eyes. It was not that she didn't wanted the brunette… It was just that everything would be so complicated if she gave in.

"How is it like?" Clarke's voice dropped a little, coming out almost as a whisper. "Being with a woman?"

Lexa's movements stopped right away and she allowed herself to chuckle before turning to face Clarke. Her eyes were darker now, and there was something almost predatory about her expression.

"Do you want to know, Clarke, or do you want me to show you?"

Clarke's breath halted, her heart beating fast inside her chest, loud enough that Lexa was able to hear it. A million thoughts raced through her mind while she decided in a matter of seconds what to do next. Everything about this was wrong: getting involved with a maid, a criminal, a woman! At the same time, there was this irresistible pull that always brought her to Lexa, ever since they first met. She wanted to know what it felt like to be in this woman's arms, even if it was just for one night.

Lexa was the one who made the first move, but Clarke wasn't much behind. They met halfway in an aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue, filled with passion and curiosity. Lexa knew at that moment that Clarke might not love her back, but she surely felt desire, and for now that was more than enough.

Lexa stood up and brought Clarke to her feet without breaking the kiss. She pushed the blonde on top of the table and positioned herself between her legs. Clarke moaned at the unexpected contact, which made the brunette shiver with desire. At the same time, she had to take her mouth away, afraid that someone might hear them if they kept this pace.

"This is the worst possible place for us to do this", explained a breathless Lexa. "One of the servants could see us. Or even worse, it could be Mrs. Langer."

Suddenly awaken by the name of the housekeeper, Clarke stopped kissing Lexa's neck and finally looked at the brunette with clouded eyes. "Let's go to my room."

The walk to Clarke's bedroom was a very long one. They tried their best to pretend they weren't doing anything suspicious, but they couldn't get their hands away from each other. Clarke pushed Lexa against the wall in every corner they passed by, kissing her senseless and starting to undo the buttons on her dress until the former maid reminded that they were in a very public place.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Lexa started the hard task of undressing the blonde. She had some practice after all those times she did it as a maid, but it was taking far longer than she was willing to wait.

"Don't rip it", warned Clarke in a husky tone.

"I'll try."

Lexa got rid of the dress in a second and proceeded to undo the corset. Meanwhile, Clarke was panting, already missing the contact with Lexa's body. When she was finally free from the restrains of her upper clothes, she was left in a thin negligee and attacked Lexa with a hungry kiss.

The next discarded item on the floor was the brunette's simple dress, followed by her underclothes. Clarke threw Lexa on her bed and climbed on top of her, straddling the brunette. She pushed her expensive negligee up and soon her entire body was exposed, allowing full breasts to be touched by the eager hands beneath her.

"You are so beautiful", whispered Lexa as she massaged Clarke's nipples with care, still studying what the girl liked or not.

"You have seen me without my clothes before", replied Clarke, holding back a moan.

"Not like this, Clarke".

Their lips met again and this time Lexa massaged the nipples harder, making the most delicious sounds come from Clarke. She slided her mouth to the blonde's neck and chest until she reached her breasts and took one hard nipple with her mouth, sucking and licking its tip until Clarke had her head thrown back and her eyes tightly shut.

Lexa moved her hands through Clarke's back, scratching them lightly with her short nails. She held the girl's ass and pushed her down, creating some friction between them.

"Lexa", breathed Clarke with a voice full of want, "I want you inside me."

"Not yet, Clarke." Lexa gave her a tender kiss and stilled their movements for a second. "This is about you. I'm going to show you how to pleasure a woman."

Clarke bit her lower lip and nodded in agreement. She had never felt so turned on in her life. Even with Finn, who was supposed to be her great love, sex was good but not this erotic. Everything was a little clumsy and fast, and she was always left wanting more. She just thought that was the way sex worked, but now Lexa was showing her a whole new world.

"Move a little higher", instructed Lexa as she laid on the bed. "Position yourself right above my head."

Clarke was trying hard to not blush at the thought of what was going to happen, but the reassuring look in Lexa's eyes made her agree and slide on the bed until her folds were inches from the brunette's face. Lexa licked her lips in expectation, already able to see how wet Clarke was for her.

When Lexa's tongue met Clarke's clit for the first time, the blonde thought she was going to have a heart attack.

"Oh my goodness", she exclaimed in surprise, grabbing the headboard to still herself.

"Are you okay?" Lexa's voice came full of want, but also concern. The vibration made Clarke's thighs clench together, trapping the brunette's head between her legs.

"Please don't stop", she begged, and Lexa was back to work in no time.

She licked, sucked, teased and groaned between Clarke's folds, applying a combination of pressure and speed on the blonde's clit. It was driving the girl crazy. When Lexa thought it was too much and Clarke was too close from her orgasm, she stopped and threw the blonde on the bed again, leaning over her.

"What are you doing?" Clarke didn't like the end of Lexa's tongue's ministrations, but she was too weak to do something about it. "Are you stopping?"

"I'm just getting started."

Lexa covered Clarke's mouth with hers and kissed her deeply while her right hand traveled down her torso until it reached Clarke's very wet folds, her own liquids mixed up with Lexa's saliva. She entered the girl slowly with only one finger, just so she could gather some moist, and then her skilled fingers started working on the blonde's clit.

Clarke had to hold back a scream. She was starting to worry that this night would end up bad after all, because it was getting harder and harder to not make noises while Lexa was giving her the most mind blowing pleasure of her life. Sensing the blonde's predicament, Lexa covered her mouth with hers while her fingers picked up their pace, but not for too long - she wanted more.

Lexa flipped them over again and laid down with her back against the mattress. Clarke whimpered, missing the contact once again, and quickly humped Lexa's thighs to relieve the pressure between her legs. Lexa held the blonde's legs firmly and pushed her to her lap, making Clarke straddle her once again.

"I want you to ride me now, Clarke", she said as her hands travelled to Clarke's ass, giving it a light squeeze. "You get to decide our pace and how many fingers you want inside."

Clarke nodded and did as Lexa said, so when two fingers entered her slowly, she didn't wait too long before she began rocking against them, moving up and down while she fucked Lexa's fingers.

Lexa held the girl in place with her free hand and used her mouth to suck her neck and her nipples. The sight before her was simply amazing: Clarke's blonde hair felt in her reddened face as she moaned and panted on top of Lexa, begging for one more finger, urging the girl to fuck her faster and harder.

When Clarke came, everything stood still, and the only noise in the room was the heavy breathing of both girls.

Clarke let herself fall into the bed and closed her eyes, enjoying the full bliss that she was in. Lexa hugged her from behind, covering the freckled shoulder with small, tender kisses.

"Are you okay?", she asked after a few minutes of silence from the blonde.

"Never been better." Clarke turned around and faced the brunette with a big, relaxed smile. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me", she replied. "You know that I really wanted to do that."

"Can you teach me how to pleasure you, like you did to me?"

"Do you really want to to this?" Lexa suddenly looked serious, staring deeply at her lover. "You don't have to."

"I do", answered Clarke with certain words. "I care about you, Lexa, and I want you. I'm sorry if I don't love you back, but maybe I'm not ready yet. I surely want to."

Lexa smiled. Clarke's words weren't what she really wanted to hear, but they were honest and carried a lot of hope for their future.

* * *

Even though it was already past time to go back to London, Clarke managed to stay in the estate for a few more months after writing her mother about her mood improvements. Mrs. Langer endorsed the girl in another letter, convincing Lady Griffin that everything was fine in Burnley. The real reason for Clarke's stay, of course, was Lexa.

They hadn't discussed yet how life would be when they returned to London. For now, they decided to just enjoy each other's companies until the end of spring, when they would have to finally go back home, but sometimes the desire to stay there forever crossed their minds, even though they didn't dare saying it out loud.

Spring went by smoothly after that first delicious night for the two girls. For the servant's eyes, nothing had changed - they still spent most of the days walking in the gardens or the village and most of the evenings locked inside Clarke's study while she painted. Little did they know that now there were some interesting activities added to their daily routines, even though Clarke and Lexa's constant smiles could easily give them away.

"You have to stand still", protested Clarke from behind the large canvas standing on her easel. "Otherwise your face will look like a monstrous blur!"

Lexa, who was lying on a couch a few feet away from the easel, just let out a comfortable laugh. "Relax, Clarke. I'm no Mona Lisa."

"I'm serious." Clarke's artistic side was very demanding that evening. "Don't move."

"Okay, don't get mad", said Lexa as she stopped shifting, going back to her original position, looking at Clarke with adoring eyes.

"See? Now I can capture your gorgeous eyes properly." Clarke gave her a smile and continued sketching her girlfriend's face on the canvas.

"Did your mother set a date for your departure?", asked Lexa, trying really hard not to move.

"It's going to be on the 25th."

"So we still got a month." The brunette tried to sound cheerful, but she was truly worried about what was going to happen when they returned. It was one thing to have a secret love affair in the gigantic estate of Burnley, where they could easily hide indoors and no one would ask anything, but in London they wouldn't even live together anymore. This whole thing would be over like a dream, and they would be back to their lives like they used to be before they've met.

Worried about her girlfriend's silence, Lexa decided to change the subject. "It doesn't have to be perfect, Clarke."

"You know it does. I've made this mistake before and I won't do it again: I will have your face on a canvas and it's going to be as close as possible from reality."

Lexa just sighed, but didn't move. She understood the girl's reasons. "You could just take a picture, you know?"

"What's the fun in that?" The blonde gave her a mischievous wink and went back to work, closing all room for argumentation.

A couple of hours later, the rough sketch was ready, and soon Lexa was free from her modeling job. She got up and approached the easel to see Clarke's portrait of her. It was really amazing. The best part were her eyes: so full of love and promises of future, just like in real life.

"Is this really how I look at you?", asked Lexa without taking her eyes off the painting.

"It is." Clarke reached out for Lexa and circled her arms around the brunette's waist, hugging her from behind. "You may look tough on the outside, but your eyes really give you away."

"Only when it comes to you." Lexa smiled and turned her head around to capture the blonde's lips in a kiss. They melted together easily, tongues exploring mouths, hands wandering over soft curves, until it was morning once again.

* * *

The following month passed like a soft breeze and soon enough it was time for them to pack. Lexa finished gathering her stuff in ten minutes; the only complication was packing up all the books she had acquired from Mr. Kane, so she had to get a new suitcase just for the volumes. Aside from that, she didn't have many things.

When she was almost done, she found on the back of her closet her old men's suit, the same one she worn one year ago, on the night of the bombing, and again on the night she got captured with the other villagers at the bookshop. Surprisingly, it was sewed back together and looked brand new.

She was about to put the suit inside her handbag when something made her stop and take it back. This was her last day in Burnley, and as scandalous this might look, she wanted to show these people who she really was. Dressing up in pants was part of her fight and it felt really freeing, so she decided to take out the dress she was wearing and replace it with the three-piece suit.

Mrs. Langer was the first one to see Lexa dressed like this and she actually fainted. Lexa helped holding her up so she didn't hit the floor and the other servants quickly got together to tend the woman. Lexa thanked them for the help and left the kitchen, not wanting to be around when the housekeeper recovered her senses.

Her next stop was Clarke's room, which was real mess. The blonde was going over all her clothes and sorting them out to decide what she was going to take to London, and she surely would need a trunk to fit all that. She didn't even notice when Lexa closed the door behind her.

"Need any help?"

When Clarke finally turned around and set her eyes on Lexa, her face blushed furiously. It wasn't the first time she was seeing the woman in a men's attire - Lexa was wearing the same outfit when she was brought to the estate on the night of the police attack - but now Clarke had a chance to finally take that sight in all its glory. There's was something extremely alluring about her girlfriend wearing something she was not supposed to.

"I'm assuming that you like it?" Lexa smiled and took a couple of steps closer to the blonde, resting her hands inside her pockets.

"You look very… dashing", she managed to blurt out before throwing a pile of dresses on her bed.

Lexa took Clarke by her waist and kissed her passionately. The blonde responded by tangling her hands in Lexa's tresses and pulling them lightly, earning a moan from the brunette.

"We have to leave soon", whispered Lexa between kisses, even though leaving was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I don't know when I'll be able to hold you like this again." Clarke squeezed Lexa's waist tightly and placed a few open-mouthed kissed down her collarbone.

"Don't worry, baby", replied Lexa with her eyes closed, hands lingering over Clarke's full breasts, "we'll find a way."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

And that was enough for Lady Clarke Griffin, even though she still needed to finish what she had started when her fingers worked their way to the buttons of Lexa's pants.

* * *

After putting the suitcases on the carriage and saying goodbye to the servants - Mrs. Langer cried for several minutes on Clarke's shoulder and even shook Lexa's hand, pretending to not acknowledge what the girl was wearing - Clarke and Lexa stopped at the village to see their friends before departing.

The villagers seemed really sad to see the girls go, but most of them promised Lexa to keep the fight alive and write her every now and then about their local WSPU meetings. They thanked Clarke again for her hospitality and hoped that she would visit them soon, which she promised she would do within a year or so. Mr. Kane sent them off with a book to each of them and wished them well.

The last stop, of course, would be the Ehlathini's house. Clarke and Lexa had lunch with the lovely couple and Indra, who was stoic as always, even though Clarke could swear that the woman was actually upset about Lexa's departure. After the traditional goodbyes and thank yous, Clarke went back to the carriage and Lexa stood behind to have a final chat with her friend.

"I'm glad you're going back to the fight", said Indra after a moment of silence, when they both just stared into the mountains of Burnley as they used to when Lexa lived at the house. "We need more people like you back there."

"I'm glad to return". And Lexa really was, but something on her tone caught Indra's attention.

"Are you, really?"

"Of course I am", answered the girl in a firm tone. "It's just that… Things now can become very complicated." She turned her head towards the carriage, where Clarke was reading Kane's book while she waited.

Indra didn't say anything right away. Since the very beginning of her relationship with Lexa, she knew that the girl was going to have problems if she kept pursuing Clarke. However, she also knew that Lexa was happy, and she wanted to see the girl living the life that she chose, just like anyone else.

"Just try to keep it low and don't tell anyone", whispered Indra in a hurry, a little embarrassed to be giving dating advice. "Look, these are complicated times that we are living. Everyone must work on a plan B, and since I know this is not your strong suit..."

Indra fiddled with something inside her pockets, pulling out two pieces of paper and shoving them into Lexa's hands.

"What's this?"

"Two tickets for the Britannic", she added quickly, "to America."

Lexa stared flabbergasted at the tickets, and then back at Indra. "What is this supposed to mean?"

"I know you have a hero's complex and want to help our cause until your last breath, and I respect you for that, but when the war starts all hell will break loose", explained Indra in a serious tone. "It will be a great moment for women to take men's places and prove that we can do everything they can, but no one knows how safe Europe is going to be, even in the big cities. Here you may die for your cause, but in America you may live to find a new one. So take these tickets and think about what you want to do."

Lexa was still very startled by Indra's gift and the following speech, so she just put the tickets inside her coat's pocket and nodded. "Thank you."

"Take care, my friend."

Indra offered her hand for Lexa to shake, but the younger woman couldn't contain her emotion and threw herself at Indra, hugging her tightly.

"You too."

They parted with a knowing glance and Lexa finally joined Clarke in the carriage, now carrying inside her pocket what could be the seeds to their future.


	10. Chapter 10

The travel was long and tiresome as usual, but by late night they were finally in London. Clarke insisted that Lexa spent the night at her mother's place so the brunette wouldn't have to confront her father until morning. This time, though, they had to be really discreet to sleep together, because Abby was watching them and the lady had really good eyes for suspicious behavior, especially when it came from her daughter. The girls ended up cozying up in the wee hours of the night in the guest room where Lexa was settled.

Before the sun was up, Lexa was suddenly awaken by someone throwing themselves on top of her.

"Good morning, dumbhead", yelled Raven on top of her friend, crushing her frame in a tight hug. "I've missed you!"

Lexa opened her eyes groggily while patting Raven's arms. "Yeah, yeah, me too."

"You have to tell me all about-"

Raven stopped midsentence and the room went really quiet for a second. Lexa's eyes widen in realisation when the third person in the bed started shifting below the covers, revealing herself to Raven, who looked like she'd just seen a ghost.

"What is happening?" Clarke's husky morning voice filled the room as she turned around, and before anyone could explain, she noticed Raven on top of Lexa.

Raven quickly got up, blushing furiously, but also holding back a laugh. This was the last scenario she could possibly expect from those two girls. "I am so sorry, milady."

Clarke was also blushing and ran out of words, looking everywhere except her mother's maid. "That's okay, Raven."

"Look, Raven", started Lexa, sitting up on the bed. "You can't tell anyone about this, okay? Especially Lady Griffin."

"Of course not!" Raven looked at her friend in disbelief. "What do you take me for? I would never do that."

"Thank you", said Clarke, now looking at the maid for the first time.

Raven couldn't help letting out a snort, which was quickly reproved by Lexa's glare.

"What? It's just kinda funny", she continued, not intimidated by the girl's stare. "Lady Griffin is sure that Clarke will marry Lord Blake before the war even starts."

The room went silent for a couple of seconds until the three girls bursted out in laughter.

"Well", said Clarke while getting up, "that is clearly not going to happen, as you can see. Now, if you excuse me, I must get back to my room before someone comes looking for me."

"Of course, milady", said Raven, "I just came down here to take Lexa back to her house. Her ladyship asked me to chaperone her, just in case something goes wrong."

Clarke nodded in agreement, feeling a lump on her throat. If only she could be the one to accompany Lexa and protect her from whatever happens… She approached the brunette and took her hand, placing a soft kiss on top of it.

"Be careful, and don't get yourself into a fight. I hope to see you soon."

"Me too", smiled Lexa, leaning down to place a kiss on Clarke's lips.

When they parted, the blonde walked away from the room, trying to be as silent as possible. She had barely closed the door when Raven's mouth went wild, and the girl was soon assaulting Lexa with all kinds of questions about her relationship with Clarke.

* * *

The two old friends walked together to Mr. Wood's house, still sharing stories about the time they've spent apart and already making plans for what they would do next. Raven really liked her position at Lady Griffin's house, but she was missing the action and looked forward to rejoin WSPU, even though the movement had lost some strength after everything that happened in the past year and the imminent approach of war. Lexa felt the same way.

They were greeted by the familiar annoyed face of Anya, who for the first time showed some emotion by hugging her sister, even if just for a couple of seconds. That was a real proof that she was happy to see her again.

"Father is inside", she announced gravely.

They parted in very odd terms and they haven't written to each other in over a year, but somehow she missed her father. She found the old man sitting on his rocking chair near the small window, staring at the greyness of the buildings and the chimineas the same way she used to stare at the green mountains back in Burnley.

"Hello, father", said Lexa in a firm tone.

Mr. Woods turned around slowly and looked at his daughter without saying a word. They stood in silence for over a minute until the man finally said something.

"Alexandra. You look different."

"It's been over a year."

"Indeed. But my real question is: have you changed for the better?"

Lexa stared at him. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Mr. Woods got up from his chair, but didn't took a step further towards his daughter. "Do you regret all the things you've done? All the shame that you put me through?"

"Father", intervened Anya, sensing the energy in the room going up, "Lexa has just arrived. Why don't you talk a little before jumping into these questions?"

"There is nothing to talk about if she's still a terrorist", spilled Mr. Woods with disdain.

"If you must know, father", started Lexa with her chin up, "I have changed. I am now even more of a suffragette, more of a feminist, more of an agitator and, if you must label me, more of a criminal than ever before."

"Then you have no business here", added Mr. Woods before going back to his chair and turning away again. "You don't live here anymore and you are no longer my daughter."

"Father, wait", said Anya, "please, think about this!"

"Where is she going to live, Mr. Woods?" Raven was on the verge of tears.

"Not here", he said drily. "People make fun of me for not being able to control my daughter, for not being man enough to show her place. Then it's better if she leaves."

"And they are right, 'cause you're clearly not man enough", said Lexa angrily before turning away and leaving the place she called home for almost twenty years for the very last time.

* * *

Lexa went back to the Griffins and Abby welcomed her in a heartbeat. She told Lexa that she could stay there for as long as it took, and she could even become a maid for Clarke if she wanted to. Lexa just thanked Abby for the hospitality and went to the guest room, trying to contain her tears of anger. Clarke joined her a few minutes later.

"What happened?" She crossed the room to hold her girlfriend, who was shaking from all the pent up anger.

"He threw me out", she said between gritted teeth. "That bastard. He said people make fun of him for not controlling his daughter, and that's why he's ashamed."

"What an imbecile." Clarke stroked Lexa's hair, trying to calm her down.

Slowly, the brunette started to feel a little less angry. Clarke helped her get out of her clothes and change into a nightgown, lying by her side on the bed and holding her close.

"My mother says she can hire you as my maid again", started Clarke softly. "I know this isn't what you want, but this could be good for us. You won't have to do anything and we could spend a lot of time together."

"You don't understand, Clarke." Lexa sighed in frustration. "I don't want to live my whole life hiding and living off other people's charity. I just want to be who I am and earn my own money so I can sustain myself."

"You'll be paid here."

"I don't want to be a maid!" Lexa sat up and looked down at Clarke with burning eyes.

Clarke winced at Lexa's explosion, but didn't say anything. The brunette calmed down a little and laid back down with her girlfriend, taking her back in her arms.

"I'm sorry."

"I love you", blurted out Clarke.

Lexa looked at the girl in surprise. They had been together for months now, but she wasn't expecting Clarke to say it back anytime soon. Anyway, her timing could not be better, because if they wanted to be together, there was only one possible way now.

"Then run away with me", asked Lexa. "Let's start our lives over in America."

"America?" This time Clarke was the one sitting up, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it. We could leave this country and start fresh in the United States. People say they are much more open minded over there. We could have jobs, and even live together."

"Live together? As a couple?"

"Yes."

"Lexa, are you insane?" Clarke was completely sat up now, so Lexa did the same to reach her eye level. "People like us get arrested for doing much less than we do."

"That's not going to stop me from wanting to have a normal life with you." Lexa held Clarke's hands and looked into her eyes. "Nor the other rights we're entitled to. Voting is just the beginning."

Clarke hesitated for a moment, still holding Lexa's hands. "Do you honestly think life there is going to be better?"

"I don't know if it's going to be better, but I know for sure that it's going to be different." Lexa smiled and placed a gentle kiss in each of Clarke's hands.

"What about my mother? And what about Anya and Raven?"

"Anya and Raven have their own agendas, and if they want to go to America I'm sure they'll find their way when they're ready", answered Lexa. "As for your mother, she can get a ticket anytime she'd like. She could even come with us."

Clarke let out a little laugh, picturing the image of the three of them living together in the United States.

"Alright, then", announced Clarke, looking a little surprised with herself. "I guess we're going to America."

* * *

As most citizens predicted, the war came like a ruthless storm and took all the young men away from their mothers and wives. Bellamy visited the Griffins briefly, already wearing his complete military gear, right before leaving for his post. He asked Clarke once again to marry him, even if only when he returned home, but she couldn't say yes to his proposal and she confessed to him that her heart belonged to another. He was sad, but understood, and continued his away hoping that the two of them could sustain a friendship when this was all over.

It didn't take long for the older lords and rich ladies to start leaving the city. Those who weren't fighting didn't want to stay behind and maybe lose everything in an enemy raid if they ever invaded London. Some of them even left the country, and almost all of the high-born ladies were now locked in their big estates, far away from London. Abby didn't want to leave; she was planning on becoming a war nurse to help out the soldiers, but Clarke spent a whole week insisting that they should go to America and stay there until the war was over.

Of course Abby didn't know that Clarke and Lexa already had the entire trip planned. Clarke mentioned to her mother that Lexa had gotten two Brittania tickets in a poker bet, which made sense since the girl didn't have anything holding her back in London. As a thank you gift for Clarke's friendship and hospitality, Lexa had given one of the tickets to the blonde. Abby was happy to see that her daughter finally made a friend and didn't mind travelling with Lexa or even helping her settle when they arrived in the States. Of course buying tickets wasn't a worry for Abby, since those transatlantic cruises were huge and the travel was very expensive. There were always available booths in the first class.

After all these discussions and planning, they were finally all packed and left to the harbor, where the Britannic was waiting. The scene they found when they arrived was almost ripped from a movie: there were hundreds, no, thousands of people walking around the harbor, elbowing each other and shouting over their heads. Not only working class people were caught up in the middle of this mess, but rich lords and ladies were also looking terrified as if the mass would strike them anytime soon.

"What on God's name is happening?", asked Abby as she saw the commotion.

The driver parked as close as he could from the loading dock to get the luggage on board, but the women had to walk quite a way in the middle of the crowd until they reached the selling booth. A small employee was trying to control the people in front of it, yelling above the complaints to be heard, to no avail. He finally stood on top of the counter, waving his arms above his head to get attention.

"Attention, everyone, attention! There are no more tickets available to the Britannic today. The ship is already overloaded!"

"Excuse me, sir", asked Abby, raising her voice above the crowd, "when is the next cruise to United States scheduled?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, milady", said the employee as he returned to the ground. "The Britannic will be turned into a hospital ship and sent to help in the war when he comes back from this trip. There are no other ships scheduled to leave England this month."

Abby nodded and tried to not look too shocked when she turned back to Clarke and Lexa, who were waiting by the boarding deck.

"Did you get your ticket, mom?", asked Clarke.

"No", answered Abby. "They are sold out for today. But that's okay, Clarke, I can take the next one and meet your girls there."

"No, mom", she whimpered, "we're not leaving without you."

Abby opened a sad smile and caressed her daughter's face, pulling her in for a hug, trying to look strong and fight back the tears.

"Don't be silly, Clarke. You girls already have the tickets, so why waste them? You have money and our contacts in New York, so you'll be fine without me. I'll join you as soon as I can."

Clarke shaked her head in disapproval, holding her mother tightly. Lexa watched the whole scene with a clenched heart as reality sank in and she made up her mind about what had to be done.

The harbor officials were fighting to keep the crowd controlled, sometimes using violence to stop people from jumping into the ship. A man was whistling loudly as the employees started to close the boarding platforms one by one before detaching them from the cruise, already steaming and ready to leave.

Faster than the blink of an eye, Lexa pushed Clarke and Abby to the boarding platform and stepped out of it, closing the gate between them. Clarke, who was facing the girl, was the first one to notice this and quickly stepped in Lexa's direction.

"Lexa", she said in a scared tone, realising what her girlfriend had done. "Please don't do this."

"It's done", she announced firmly, as the harbor officials approached them to lock the gates and started pulling back the platform.

"No, Lexa, please", shouted Clarke in despair, trying to open the gate again.

"Step back, milady, please", asked one of the officials, "you could get hurt!"

"Calm down, Clarke", started Abby as she held her daughter back. "There's nothing we can do now."

"I won't leave you behind", she screamed to Lexa as she reached for her through the gate.

Lexa took a step forward and grabbed Clarke's hand. She gave the blonde a teary smile as she squeezed her hand. "I'll always carry you in my mind and in my heart, Clarke."

"I'll never forget about you", promised the blonde as her mother and the officials pulled her away from the gate, breaking her contact with Lexa.

"May we meet again", said Lexa through the gate as Clarke was dragged away, and soon the platform was detached from the ship.

Lexa watched the Britannic drifting away to the New World, and she only turned back to the old one when there was nothing else to watch in the huge wide sea. **  
**

THE END

* * *

Thank you for reading. If you want a sequel, please leave a comment. I'm working on a few ideas but suggestions are always welcome. Also, English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

This work was inspired by the TV show Downton Abbey, but first and foremost by the movie Suffragette (2015), which I highly recommend watching. All the facts that happened in the movie and in this story regarding WSPU were real, like the bombing of Lloyd George's house, the death of Emily Wilding Davison and the persecution and capture of members by the police. I have nothing but deep respect for the fight of the women from WSPU and I am forever thankful for what they did for women's rights, so I hope the use of those events for a work of fiction isn't offensive to anybody. Of course the fight is not over, so now it's up to us to get equal rights for women all around the world.


End file.
